1P8II5TEX  LIBRIS 


BRUCE  GOTTEN 

COLLECTION 

OF 

NORTH     CAROLIN1ANA 


TWM 


:igii!iiiaiiigimg 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2013 


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EONEGUSKI, 


OR, 


THE  CHEROKEE  CHIEF: 


A  TALE  OF  PAST  WARS. 


BY  AN  AMERICAN. 


BUT  HERE  (METHINKS)  MIGHT  INDIA'S  SONS  EXPLORE 
THEIR  FATHER'S  DUST,  OR  LIFT,  PERCHANCE  OF  YORE 
THEIR  VOICE  TO  THE  GREAT  SPIRIT  :  


Gertrude  of  Wyoming. 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 


VOL.    I. 


|©agFtfnjjton : 

FRANCK   TAYLOR. 
1839. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1839, 
BY  PETER  FORCE, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of 
Columbia. 


PRINTED    BY    PETER    FORCE, 
CORNER    OE    1>    AND    TENTH    STREETS. 


INTRODUCTION. 


Dear  Sir  : 

Having  heard  of  you  as  one  ever  ready  to  pro- 
mote the  literature  of  your  Country,  and  to  develope 
its  history,  I  have  determined  to  forward  you  the 
accompanying,  with  a  request  that  you  will  commit 
it  to  the  press,  if,  according  to  your  judgment,  it 
possesses  sufficient  merits. 

In  writing  this  manuscript  I  cannot  claim  to 
rank  as  an  Author,  having  merely  thrown  together, 
with  very  little  embellishment,  facts  that  I  have 
been  enabled  to  collect  from  a  variety  of  scattered 
sources. 

A  few  years  ago  I  was  a  traveller  through  the 
western  part  of  North  Carolina,  and  having  stopped 
early  in  the  evening  at  a  small  village,  on  the  south- 
western side  of  the  Tennessee  River,  in  the  indul- 
gence of  a  curiosity  common  to  myself,  with  most 
travellers,  I  inquired  if  the  neighborhood  furnish- 
ed anything  to  gratify  an  admirer  of  the  works 
either  of  nature  or  of  art.  My  host,  who  was,  by 
the  way,  an  amiable  and  intelligent  man,  promptly 
answered,  that  there  was  within  the  limits  of  the 


IV 

village  itself,  an  "  Indian  mound,"  and  that  the 
Falls  of  the  Sugar  Town  Fork,  a  few  miles  distant, 
were  esteemed  quite  an  interesting  spectacle  to  such 
as  loved  to  see  nature  in  wildness  and  grandeur. 
Moved  by  no  love  of  gain,  which  might  seek  to 
prolong,  as  much  as  possible,  the  stay  of  a  guest 
where  the  visits  of  travellers  were  like  those  of 
angels,  he  kindly  offered  to  accompany  me  the 
next  day  as  far  on  the  way  to  the  Falls  as  the  resi- 
dence of  Mr.  McDonald,  who  was,  he  informed 
me,  the  clerk  of  the  court — a  scholar,  a  gentleman, 
and  one  deeply  versed  in  the  legendary  lore  of  the 
country,  which  he  took  great  pleasure  in  imparting 
whenever  it  was  his  fortune  to  meet  with  an  intelli- 
gent and  interested  listener. 

My  host  excused  himself  from  accompanying 
me  farther,  by  assuring  me  that  I  should  6nd  in 
Mr.  McDonald  a  willing  and  much  more  able 
guide  than  himself,  in  my  progress  up  the  Sugar 
Town  Fork,  and  that  the  pressure  of  his  own  busi- 
ness would  require  his  immediate  return  to  the 
village. 

Accordingly,  the  next  morning,  I  proceeded  with 
my  worthy  host  in  quest  of  adventures,  and  would 
have  crossed  the  Tennessee  River  at  a  new  and 
convenient  bridge,  but  was  assured  by  him  I  should 
save  half  a  dollar  in  going  and  returning  by  fording 
the  stream,  which,  although  quite  rapid,  was  scarcely 
deep  enough  to  swim  my  horse.     I  was  but  little 


INTRODUCTION.  V 

practised  as  a  highland  traveller,  and  did  not,  I 
confess,  feel  very  comfortable  in  looking  upon  the 
stream  gliding  swiftly  beneath  me ;  and  although 
my  horse  did  not  actually  swim,  my  head  did,  and 
I  was  heartily  glad  when  I  touched  terra  firma  on 
the  opposite  side.  But  I  did  not  trouble  my  friend 
with  any  voluntary  exhibitions  of  alarm  ;  but,  on 
the  contrary,  flattered  myself  with  the  hope  that  I 
had  succeeded  in  impressing  him  very  favorably 
with  both  my  courage  and  experience. 

We  had  not  progressed  far  before  I  perceived 
that  fifty  cents  for  crossing  the  bridge  at  the  village 
would  have  been  a  very  idle  expenditure  of  money, 
for  as  we  advanced  we  had  to  cross  and  recross 
the  stream  every  hundred  or  two  yards,  where  it 
was  very  little  narrower  or  shallower  than  where  we 
first  encountered  it.  It  is  true,  as  our  general 
course  was  up  the  stream,  both  its  width  and  depth 
did  somewhat  diminish  at  each  successive  ford,  but 
it  was  very  gradually,  and  before  we  reached  Mr. 
McDonald's,  my  brain  had  become  quite  steady, 
and  my  confidence  perfectly  established. 

When  I  entered  the  house  of  Mr.  McDonald  it 
was  not  with  the  feelings  of  a  stranger ;  his  first 
salutation  being  sufficient  to  satisfy  me  that  he  was  a 
man  after  my  own  heart.  Had  he  lived  in  a  city,  he 
would  have  been  a  book-worm,  and  wasted  all  his 
means  in  acts  of  benevolence ;  but  in  his  present 
situation,  with  a  scanty  library,  he  was  forced  to 
1* 


VI  INTRODUCTION. 

read  the  book  of  nature,  or,  at  least,  many  of  its 
most  striking  pages ;  and  the  demands  upon  his 
generous  feelings  were  few,  and  never  such  as  to 
tax  the  pocket. 

Should  these  pages  ever  find  their  way  back  to 
the  region  of  which  they  treat,  Mrs.  McDonald 
will  pardon  the  introduction  of  her  name,  as  a  most 
sincere  and  respectful  offering  of  gratitude.  She  is 
a  lady  in  the  most  significant  sense  of  that  term  ; 
and  I  was  almost  compelled  to  doubt  the  evidence 
of  my  own  senses  when  my  eye  glanced  from  the 
wild  scenery  around  me,  to  the  interesting  woman, 
who,  had  she  been  bred  in  courts,  would  not  have 
been  half  so  successful  in  throwing  an  air  of  elegance 
over  the  rustic  comforts  by  which  she  was  sur- 
rounded. 

In  a  short  time  Mr.  McDonald  and  I  were  ready 
to  pursue  our  way,  leaving  my  host  of  the  village 
to  return  at  his  leisure.  An  hour's  riding  brought 
us  where  Mr.  McDonald  informed  me  our  horses 
could  no  longer  be  useful  ;  we  accordingly  tied 
them  to  a  limb  of  a  tree,  and  began,  on  foot,  to  en- 
counter the  very  steep  ascent  formed  by  the  moun- 
tains so  closing  in  as  to  leave  only  a  very  narrow 
pass  for  the  brawling  stream.  After  laborious 
climbing  for  another  hour,  we  reached  the  Falls, 
which,  I  confess,  disappointed  me,  and  I  was  even 
so  impolite  as  to  acknowledge  it  to  my  guide.  But 
the  wild  and  picturesque  scenery  through  which  I 


INTRODUCTION.  VII 

had  passed,  would  have  repaid  me  for  my  fatigue, 
had  I  found  nothing  more.  But  the  phrenologists 
say  my  organ  of  alimentiveness  is  a  good  deal  de- 
veloped, and  proves  that  I  have  an  especial  relish 
for  good  eating  and  drinking ;  and  I  do  not  know 
that  the  aforesaid  propensity  of  my  nature  has 
ever  been  more  highly  treated  than  on  my  present 
visit. 

As  we  turned  to  descend — "  We  must  take  a  sal- 
mon home  with  us  for  dinner,"  said  Mr.  McDonald. 

"  A  salmon  ?"  said  I,  in  unfeigned  surprise. 

"  Yes,"  replied  my  host,  in  his  quiet  way,  "  a 
salmon." 

"  You  are  jesting  with  me,"  said  I. 

"  Indeed  1  am  not,"  said  Mr.  McDonald,  delibe- 
rately seating  himself  by  the  side  of  the  stream 
we  had  regained,  and  pulling  off  his  coat,  shoes 
and  stockings,  and  rolling  up  his  pantaloons  and 
shirt  sleeves. 

In  a  moment  more  he  was  in  the  water,  turning 
over  the  large  rocks,  with  as  much  earnestness  as 
if  he  had  expected  to  find  a  bag  of  gold  beneath 
each  of  them.  I  looked  on,  puzzled  what  to  think 
of  my  new  acquaintance.  At  length  he  succeeded 
in  slightly  shaking  a  very  large  rock,  which  defied 
all  his  efforts  to  turn  it  over,  when  instantly  there 
dashed  from  beneath  it  what,  at  first,  appeared  to 
me  to  be  a  perfect  monster.  Mr.  McDonald  im- 
mediately rushed  in    pursuit,  and  a  more  amusing 


VIII  INTRODUCTION. 


spectacle  I  never  witnessed  for  twelve  or  fifteen 
minutes.  The  water  was  splashed  about  in  every 
direction,  so  as  to  leave  not  a  dry  garment  upon  the 
pursuer,  as  a  large  fish  darted  from  one  hiding  place 
to  another,  with  fruitless  efforts  to  avail  himself  of 
it.  Sometimes  the  hand  of  the  extraordinary  fish- 
erman was  fairly  upon  him,  but  the  lubricity  of  his 
scales  would  save  him,  and  afford  him  another 
chance  for  escape.  At  length,  however,  when 
nearly  exhausted  with  his  bootless  exertions,  Mr. 
McDonald  succeeded  in  dexterously  thrusting  his 
hand  into  the  gills  of  the  fish,  which  now  lashed 
the  water  into  a  perfect  foam,  and  sent  the  spray  in 
every  direction,  like  a  shower  of  rain.  But  the 
relentless  foe  held  on,  with  tenacious  grasp,  and 
dragged  him  to  the  shore.  My  assistance  now 
seemed  necessary  to  prevent  the  captive  from  re- 
gaining his  native  element,  so  completely  had  the 
captor  expended  his  strength  in  the  double  labor  of 
turning  over  the  rocks  to  dislodge  the  game  and 
securing  it  afterwards. 

As  soon  as  Mr.  McDonald  had  sufficiently  reco- 
vered himself,  we  repaired  to  our  horses,  with  our 
prize,  which  he  fastened  behind  his  saddle.  We 
then  proceeded  to  his  house,  where  Mrs.  McDonald 
prepared  for  us  a  most  sumptuous  dinner,  of  which 
the  captive  fish  constituted  an  important  part,  and 
was,  by  far,  the  finest,  both  in  looks  and  flavor,  I 
had  ever  tasted. 


INTRODUCTION.  IX 

I  am  an  admirer  of  good  wine,  and  consequently 
have  no  great  relish  for  what  is  commonly  called 
native  wine,  but  that  which  my  host  furnished  on 
this  occasion  of  his  own  vintage  was  to  me  uncom- 
monly palatable. 

After  dinner  my  friend  began  to  exhibit  his  pro- 
pensity for  legendary  recital,  and,  among  other 
things,  inquired  of  me  if  I  had  ever  been  at  Tesum- 
toe? 

To  this  I  replied  in  the  negative.  "  Then," 
said  he,  "  you  have  never  seen  the  plain  black  cross 
which  marks  the  head  of  a  grave  in  the  village 
graveyard." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  I. 

"  Around  that  cross,"  said  he,  "  clusters  some  of 
the  most  interesting  incidents  connected  with  this 
part  of  the  country." 

I  encouraged  the  mood  of  my  friend,  and,  with 
short  intervals  for  sleep,  and  our  necessary  meals, 
it  was  far  into  the  next  day  when  I  was  compelled 
to  break  off,  much  against  my  will,  leaving  his  reci- 
tal unfinished.  I  returned  to  the  village  that  even- 
ing, and  the  next  morning  resumed  my  journey. 

In  the  following  sheets  I  have  thrown  together 
parts  of  Mr.  McDonald's  narrative,  mingled  with 
much  1  had  gathered  from  other  sources ;  and 
trust  they  will  not  be  found  destitute  of  interest. 
They  embody  to  some  extent  the  prevailing  cus- 
toms of  one  tribe,  at  least,  of  our  aborigines,  and 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

some  effort  is  made  to  impart  the  interest  of  romance 
to  a  portion  of  its  transactions  with  the  whites. 

Since  these  pages  were  written,  the  removal  of 
the  Cherokees  to  the  west  of  the  Mississippi  has 
been  completed.  Only  the  few  particularly  referred 
to  in  the  latter  part  of  the  following  story  remain, 
and  these,  I  perceive,  have  recently  attracted  the 
notice  of  some  contributor  to  the  newspapers. 
From  this  newspaper  account,  I  should  be  led  to 
infer  they  must  have  multiplied  considerably  since 
my  friend  Mr.  McDonald's  information  respecting 
them.  But  it  is  possible  he  may  not  have  medita- 
ted in  his  conversations  with  me,  the  most  perfect 
accuracy,  little  suspecting  I  was  "  a  chiel'  amang 
them  takin'  notes.'' 

It  may  be,  therefore,  that  should  you  see  fit  to 
usher  to  the  light  my  humble  labors,  many  other 
errors  and  inaccuracies  may  be  detected  by  per- 
sons more  knowing  than  myself.  Should  this  be 
the  case,  I  pray  such  to  understand,  that  I  do  not 
hold  myself  accountable  for  accuracy  in  a  single 
particular — that  all  that  is  therein  set  forth  is  en- 
dorsed without  recourse — that  Mr.  McDonald  and 
the  rest  who  have  furnished  me  with  materials  are 
alone  responsible  for  their  being  genuine — and  that 
so  far  from  holding  myself  liable  to  the  imputation 
of  the  shameful  vices  of  wilful  lying,  or  imprudently 
repeating  things  without  regard  to  their  truth  or 
falsehood,  I  do  not  admit  that  it  would  be  just  and 


INTRODUCTION.  XI 

proper,  even  to  ascribe  to  me  the  amiable  weakness 
of — credulity.  I  was  myself  entertained,  without 
inquiring,  or  greatly  caring,  whether  what  I  heard 
was  true  or  false,  and  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  afford 
to  others  a  like  opportunity. 

Should  I  fail  in  amusing  and  instructing  those 
who  may  favor  these  pages  with  a  perusal,  contempt 
will  shield  them  from  any  severe  scrutiny  upon  the 
point  of  truth  and  accuracy.  On  the  other  hand, 
if  where  the  former  are  afforded,  the  latter  were 
also  required,  Homer  and  Milton  would  never  have 
insinuated  the  beauteous  fabrications  of  their  respec- 
tive fancies  into  the  texture  of  the  religious  creeds 
of  their  several  ages,  nor  have  become  the  standards 
of  taste  and  models  of  poetic  excellence  for  all 
generations. 

As  in  this  age  of  utilitarianism  no  story  can  be 
considered  worth  perusing,  from  which  no  instructive 
moral  can  be  drawn,  I  should  be  sorry  to  believe 
my  labors  deficient  in  this  particular.  From  the 
uniform  success  attendant  in  my  story  on  the  white 
man,  in  every  species  of  contest  with  the  savage, 
whether  in  love  or  war,  and  whether  single  handed 
or  in  numbers,  we  may  learn  to  set  a  just  value  upon 
the  advantages  of  civilization.  From  thence  nothing 
can  be  more  natural  than  for  us  to  advance  another 
step,  and  feel  our  hearts  warmed  with  gratitude  to 
Providence,  who  has  cast  our  own  lot  in  the  fortu- 
nate class. 


XII  INTRODUCTION. 

But  I  will  not  anticipate  further,  leaving  to  every 
reader  to  select  for  himself  from  the  moral  and  in- 
tellectual repast  we  set  before  him,  and  if  he  rises 
from  it  unamused  and  uninstructed,  I  must  indulge 
my  vanity  so  far  as  to  attribute  the  fault  to  him, 
rather  than  myself. 

Should  the  Public,  however,  that  just  arbiter  from 
whose  judgment  there  is  no  appeal,  give  to  my 
production  any  decided  mark  of  approval,  it  is 
more  than  probable  you  may  hear  again  from  one 
who  is, 

Very  respectfully, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

AN  AMERICAN. 
To  Peter  Force,  Esq. 


EONEGUSKI 


CHAPTER  I. 

Above  me  are  the  Alps, 


Those  palaces  of  Nature,  whose  vast  walls 
Have  pinnacled  in  clouds  their  snowy  scalps. 

******* 

But  ere  these  matchless  heights  I  dare  to  scan, 
There  is  a  spot  should  not  be  pass'd  in  vain. 

Byron. 

The  spirit  of  adventure  and  a  love  of  freedom,  rather 
than  ease,  have  been  prominent  characteristics  of  the 
Anglo-Americans,  from  the  very  beginning  of  their  ex- 
istence as  a  people.  Indeed,  if  the  origin  of  this  race 
could  be  traced  to  the  age  of  Fable,  these  principles 
would  be  found  personified  by  the  poets ;  and  supersti- 
tious Americans  might  claim  a  mythological  descent 
from  a  demigod  called  Enterprise,  by  the  Genius  of  Li- 
berty, whom  he  accidentally  encountered  in  the  wilds  of 
Briton.  But  no  clouds  of  uncertainty  hover  over  the 
origin  of  our  Heaven-favored  nation,  and,  without  a 
figure,  its  existence  may  be  traced  to  the  joint  effect  of 
a  bold  love  of  enterprise,  and  an  intolerance  of  oppres- 
sion. These  moved  our  ancestors  to  forsake  the  home 
of  their  fathers,  and  seek  for  fortune  and  freedom  in 
an  untrodden  wilderness.  Though  no  civilized  man 
had  preceded  them  thither,  the  savage  was  there, 
claiming  the  lordship  of  the  soil  by  Nature's  charter — 
possession — authenticated  by  her  law — superior  force. 
Yet,  it  was  the  will  of  Heaven  that  this  physical  law 
should  be  superseded,  and  that  the  Red  men  should 

vol.  I. — 2. 


14  EONEGUSKl. 

yield  their  homes  to  greatly  inferior  numbers  of  the 
Whites,  receding  before  their  rapidly  increasing  masses, 
ceaselessly,  as  the  roll  of  the  billows  of  the  ocean, 
until  checked  by  the  voice  of  Him  who  hath  set  for 
the  sea  her  appointed  boundaries. 

Many  years  ago,  Robert  Aymor  removed  to  that 
region  of  country  which  lies  immediately  to  the  west- 
ward of  the  Blue  Ridge,  within  the  chartered  limits  of 
the  State  of  North  Carolina.  His  father  before  him 
had  been  one  of  those  who  constituted  portions  of  the 
vanguard  of  the  white  settlers,  who,  planting  their  feet 
successively  on  each  spot  of  earth  while  yet  warm  with 
the  departing  footstep  of  the  Aboriginal  possessor,  tra- 
ced him  closely  in  his  retreat  towards  the  setting  sun. 
This  mode  of  life  had  become  endeared  to  Robert,  by 
the  sacred  influence  of  paternal  example,  and  was  fol- 
lowed as  the  one  for  which  he  was  best  fitted,  both  by 
habit  and  disposition. 

Robert  Aymor  was  an  illiterate  man,  in  the  more 
proper  acceptation  of  the  term,  although  he  was  not 
ignorant  of  the  rudiments  of  reading,  writing,  and  arith- 
metic, and  was  accounted  no  bad  practical  surveyor. 
But  he  was  a  man  of  strong  natural  sense,  had  been  a 
shrewd  observer  of  men  and  things,  and  had  carefully 
treasured  up  the  traditionary  lore  of  his  ancestors.  His 
inward  man  was,  therefore,  far  above  the  contempt  of 
the  most  pretending,  and  could  rather  look  down  from 
its  own  elevation  upon  most  with  whom  it  was  its 
fortune  to  encounter.  In  personal  advantages  he  had 
no  cause  to  complain  of  nature.  She  had  given  him 
a  strong  athletic  frame,  about  six  feet  two  inches  in 
height  when  standing  in  his  moccasins,  although  this 
height  was  rendered  less  striking  from  that  peculiar 
stoop,  which  is  generally  described  by  the  term  round- 
shouldered.  Locks,  which  were  in  early  life  as  black 
as  the  raven's  wing,  now  intermingled  here  and  there 
with  hair  rivalling  the  snow  in  whiteness,  clustered 
around  a  high  broad  forehead.  Long  shaggy  brows 
overhung  small  clear  grey  eyes,  deep  buried  in  their 


EONEGUSKI.  15 

sockets.  His  nose  was  long,  thin,  and  sharp,  such  as 
is  usually  selected  to  grace  the  face  of  a  miser ;  and,  as 
is  generally  the  case  with  one  of  that  description,  con- 
tinually threatened  approach  to  a  chin,  projecting  be- 
neath it,  and  seeming,  in  its  turn,  ambitiously  aspiring 
to  the  place  of  its  rival.  But  these  doughty  champions 
were  kept  apart  by  a  mouth  on  which  an  expression  of 
soft  benevolence  sat  continually.  Whatever  might  be 
said  in  disparagement  of  particular  features  in  the  face 
of  Robert  Aymor,  his  mouth  imparted  to  the  whole 
countenance  a  winning  expression,  which  disarmed  at 
once  the  purpose  of  scrutiny,  and  subdued  any  preju- 
dice with  which  a  stranger  might  have  approached 
him.  No  people  upon  earth  are  usually  so  soon  obe- 
dient to  the  promptings  of  nature,  to  select  for  them- 
selves an  helpmate,  as  the  settlers  of  a  new  country ; 
yet  Robert  Aymor  was  rather  an  exception  to  this 
general  rule,  for  reasons  which  will  appear  in  the 
course  of  the  story.  But  his  case  formed  no  exception 
to  the  haste  with  which  this  important  act  is  generally 
performed,  at  whatever  period  of  life  convenience  may 
dictate  it : — the  choice  commonly  devolving  upon  the 
first  good  looking  object  on  which  the  eyes  of  the 
swain  may  fall,  after  he  has  resolved  to  marry. 

Dorothy  Hays  was  a  hearty  buxom  lass,  fair,  and 
round  featured — her  father  resided  contiguous  to  the  pa- 
rent of  Robert  Aymor ;  she  crossed  his  path  at  the  critical 
moment,  and  they  became  man  and  wife.  But  it  was 
not  long  after  marriage  that  Aymor  made  a  discovery, 
which  hung  like  a  cloud  over  his  prospects  of  happi- 
ness. His  Dolly  proved  to  be  one  of  those  weak  per- 
sons, whom  unscrupulous  rudeness  might  have  called 
a  fool.  From  the  moment  that,  what  was  at  first  suspi- 
cious apprehension,  became  fixed  conviction,  Aymor 
felt,  that  respect  for  his  wife,  the  only  fetter  with  which 
wayward  love  can  effectually  be  bound,  was  wanting, 
and  that  he  must  thenceforth  pass  through  life  the  list- 
less slave  of  conjugal  duty,  and  not  the  cheerful  subject 
oi  connubial  affection.     But  he  was,  in  his  way,  a 


16  EONEGtTSKI. 

conscientious  man,  and  resolved  that  Dolly  should 
never  know  the  distressing  discovery  he  had  made, 
nor  find  any  thing1  in  his  manner  different  from  what 
she  would  have  done  had  she  been  all  that,  in  the 
blindness  of  passion,  he  once  imagined  her.  This  was 
a  resolution  not  altogether  in  the  power  of  human 
nature  to  keep,  and,  when  mortified  by  her  follies,  or 
wearied  with  her  stupidity,  hasty  expressions  would 
escape  his  lips,  which  happily  for  herself  she  was  in- 
capable of  feeling  in  all  their  cutting  severity.  What 
a  riddle  is  man  !  And  what  cause  for  grateful  admira- 
tion has  he  to  the  Author  of  all  good,  that  the  root  of 
some  of  his  holiest  feelings,  and  some  of  his  highest 
moral  enjoyments,  is  found  amid  his  very  vices,  his 
foibles,  and  his  griefs !  And  thus  did  Robert  Aymor 
often  experience  an  overflowing  of  tenderness  for  his 
wife,  and  pleasure  in  offering  her  atoning  kindnesses, 
after  one  of  those  bursts  of  impatience,  she  possessed  no 
other  means  of  calling  forth  or  producing. 

At  the  period  when  our  story  opens,  Robert  Aymor 
was  more  than  fifty  years  of  age,  and  his  wife  some 
years  younger,  although  a  stranger  might  have  judged 
her  the  elder  of  the  two.  Time,  which  had  rendered 
him  more  gaunt,  and  thus,  notwithstanding  the  slight 
increase  in  his  natural  stoop,  added  to  his  apparent 
height,  had  greatly  increased  her  natural  obesity,  and 
she  now  moved  with  difficulty  a  mass  of  matter  scarcely 
less  in  circumference  than  in  height.  That  attention 
to  personal  neatness,  by  which  so  many  efface  for  a 
season  those  traces  by  which  Time  is  ever  striving  to 
mark  his  transit,  was  in  her  case  entirely  wanting. 
Her  broad  round  face,  through  the  texture  of  whose 
skin  the  multitudinous  veins,  with  their  crimson  cur- 
rents, distinctly  shewed,  as  if  the  latter  were  ready  to 
burst  forth,  was  in  perfect  contrast  with  the  meagre, 
weather-beaten  visage  of  her  husband.  Her  sex,  her 
age,  and  her  intellect,  all  conspired  to  render  her  gar- 
rulous, whilst  the  very  extravagance  of  her  loquacity 
but  served  to  increase  that  taciturnity  so  natural  to  the 


EONEGUSKI.  17 

situation  of  Aymor.  The  ordinary  fruits  of  matrimo- 
ny had  not  been  denied  to  this  couple,  and  Dolly,  as 
far  as  possible,  had  atoned  for  mental  barrenness,  by 
an  unusual  fecundity  of  body.  The  young  olive  plants 
encircled  the  table  of  Aymor — his  quiver  was  full  of 
those  arrows  which  are  a  blessing  from  the  Lord — 
and  if  more  than  a  dozen  children  could  save  from  that 
misfortune,  he  need  not  have  been  ashamed  when  he 
met  his  enemy  in  the  gates. 

Gideon,  the  eldest  of  these  mountain  shoots,  is  the 
one  with  whom,  in  the  progress  of  our  story,  we  shall 
have  most  to  do,  and  was,  at  the  period  we  speak  of, 
about  the  age  when  a  man  is  said  to  be  handsome,  if 
ever.  A  little  more  than  a  score  of  years  were  accom- 
plished since  his  birth,  and  had  conferred  upon  him  the 
honors  of  manhood.  In  person  Gideon  was  more  upon 
the  model  of  his  mother,  than  his  father.  In  height 
he  did  not  exceed  five  feet  nine  inches,  and  from  her  he 
had  borrowed  a  full  black  eye,  snub  nose,  and  plump 
sensual  lips.  But  although  his  figure  was  rather 
broad  in  proportion  to  his  height,  there  was  no  super- 
fluous flesh  about  him,  and  he  was,  upon  the  whole,  well 
formed,  both  for  strength  and  activity.  His  intellectual 
character  was  a  combination  of  those  of  his  two  pa- 
rents. He  possessed  his  father's  shrewdness,  though 
not  to  the  full  extent,  and  was,  perhaps,  his  equal  in 
courage  and  enterprise,  but  was  quite  deficient  in 
his  characteristic  generosity  and  frankness  of  disposi- 
tion. Altogether  he  was  well  calculated  to  work  his 
way  through  the  world,  and  especially  in  that  mode  of 
life  which  had  been  followed  by  his  family  for  several 
generations ;  he  was  bold,  active,  and  enterprising,  and 
shrunk  not  from  the  labors  incident  to  the  rude  hus- 
bandry of  the  time  and  place,  or  the  dangers  and  fa- 
tigues of  hunting. 

From  a  small  range  of  mountains,  on  the  western 

side  of  French   Broad   River,  commonly  called  the 

Homony  Hills,  issues  a  clear  rapid  stream,  also  called 

Homony  Creek.     This  stream  takes  its  rise  near  the 

2* 


18  EONEGUSKI. 

very  summit  of  the  ridge,  and  winding  its  way  for 
seven  or  eight  miles,  serves  like  the  thread  of  Ari- 
adne, to  guide  the  wanderer  through  the  mazes  of  a 
labyrinth,  to  the  only  practicable  passage  across  this 
barrier  of  nature's  own  erection.  In  various  places 
along  its  course  through  the  mountain  hollow,  small 
and  narrow,  but  beautiful  and  fertile  pieces  of  land 
spread  themselves  out  in  a  perfect  level,  presenting  a 
pleasing  contrast  with  the  wild  and  precipitous  hills  in 
which  they  are  embosomed.  These  delightful  spots 
of  ground  become  more  numerous  and  extensive  as  the 
stream  progresses  on  its  rapid  and  irriguous  way,  until, 
where  it  finally  emerges  from  the  gorge  of  the  moun- 
tain, it  meanders  through  a  rich  plain,  containing  many 
acres,  and  at  last  loses  itself  in  French  Broad  River. 

This  plain,  at  the  time  we  speak  of,  was  in  part 
occupied  by  the  farm  of  Robert  Aymor,  lying  around 
the  point,  which  like  a  promontory,  of  no  great  extent, 
stretched  itself  out  from  the  foot  of  the  mountain  into 
the  plain.  Upon  this  elevation  Aymor  had  erected  his 
comfortable  log  dwelling.  The  abrupt  and  rocky 
edges  of  this  hill  were  concealed  by  a  thick  evergreen 
growth  of  mountain  ivy  and  laurel,  while  the  level  on 
its  summit,  shorn  of  all  brush  and  underwood,  was 
crowned  with  a  magnificent  growth  of  mountain  ash, 
chestnut  and  poplar,  which,  in  the  summer  heat,  lent 
their  refreshing  shade  to  the  cottage  they  surrounded. 
Yet  their  branches  were  not  now  stretching  out  their 
leafy  canopy,  to  shelter  from  solstitial  heat  the  panting 
sufferer,  but,  stript  of  their  verdant  honors,  were  rudely 
torn  and  shaken  by  the  wintry  blasts,  or  hung,  as  in 
mockery,  with  the  gathering  snow  wreath.  Night  had 
come  down  upon  the  earth,  with  a  darkness  unmitigated, 
save  by  the  phosphoric  light  emitted  from  the  snow, 
which  had  been  for  hours  falling  fast  and  thickly.  The 
wind  howled  piteously  through  the  hollows  of  the  Hom- 
mony,  while  the  dash  of  its  stream  could  scarcely  be 
heard  in  its  feeble  efforts  to  escape  from  the  icy  prison 
in  which  stern  nature  was  hastening  to  confine  it.     The 


EONEGUSKI.  19 

family  of  Robert  Aymor,  in  this  inclement  night,  was 
gathered  around,  or  rather,  partly  within  and  partly 
around  a  fire-place  but  little  inferior  in  size  to  a  small 
bed  room,  from  the  centre  of  which  a  large  pile  of 
wood  was  sending  up  a  lively  blaze,  roaring  as  it 
ascended,  as  if  in  defiance,  or  in  imitative  mockery  of 
the  storm  without. 

"  Atha!  my  dear,"  said  Aymor,  as  he  drew  near 
the  fire,  and  gave  it  a  punch  with  the  poking  stick, 
"  put  the  children  to  bed  :  Lucy  and  Sylvia  are  asleep 
already,  and  the  rest  are  not  far  behind  them." 

"For  God's  sake,  Bob  Aymor,"  said  his  wife,  "let 
the  children  alone,  if  they're  a  mind  to  sleep  by  the  fire 
I  can't  see  why  it  ain't  just  as  good  as  putting  them  to 
bed." 

"  Mother  !"  replied  Atha,  modestly,  "  I  think  father 
is  right,  the  poor  little  things  can't  be  comfortable  in  the 
way  they  are  fixed,  and,  besides,  there  is  danger  of  their 
taking  cold." 

"  I  hav'nt  another  word  to  say  about  it,  Atha ;  I 
know  you'll  always  side  with  your  father,  so  just  fix  it 
your  own  way." 

Atha,  a  pretty  country  girl,  a  year  or  two  younger 
than  her  brother  Gideon,  proceeded  to  fulfil  the 
command  of  her  father,  and,  for  a  time,  the  sounds  of 
"  harmony  not  understood,"  filled  the  cottage,  as  she 
successively  stripped  the  members  of  the  juvenile  mul- 
titude, and  consigned  them  to  their  respective  places  of 
repose.  At  length,  all  was  again  quiet  within  the 
cottage,  and  the  storm,  as  if  to  make  up  for  the  time  in 
which  its  clamor  had  been  drowned  by  the  noise  of  the 
children,  raged  more  loudly  without. 

"  It  is  a  fearful  night,"  said  Atha,  shivering,  as  she 
returned  towards  the  cheerful  hearth,  "  and  God  knows 
I  pity  from  my  heart  the  many  poor  creatures  who  are 
exposed  to  it,  without  a  house  to  shelter,  or  a  fire  to 
warm  them." 

"  You  are  thinking  of  John  Welch,  now,"  said  her 
mother.  "  I  don't  care  the  peeling  of  a  'tater  where  he 


20  EONEGUSKI. 

is ;  and,  if  I  was  you,  I  wouldn't  be  such  a  fool,  as  to 
have  him  always  in  my  head." 

"  It  isn't  kind  in  you,  mother,  to  take  me  up  in  this 
way,"  replied  Atha,  sorrowfully ;  "  I  am  sure  I  did  not 
say  a  word  about  John  Welch,  and  even  if  a  thought  of 
him  had  come  across  my  mind,  when  I  heard  the  wind 
howl  so  dismally,  it  is  no  wonder,  when  you  know, 
mother,  we  have  been  playmates  ever  since  I  can  re- 
member anything,  and  that  I  may  have  been  the  cause 
of  his  exposure  to  this  dreadful  storm,  and,  gracious 
knows,  how  many  other  troubles  and  dangers."  An 
unbidden  tear  gathered  in  the  eye  of  the  innocent  girl, 
which  she  hastened  to  wipe  away  with  the  corner  of 
her  apron. 

"  You  know  it  wa'nt  my  fau't,  Atha,"  continued  her 
mother,  in  a  softened  tone  of  voice,  "  I  always  thought 
John  Welch  good  enough  for  anybody,  but  Bob  Ay- 
mor  must  always  carry  a  high  head,  and  I  look  for 
the  day  to  come  when  he'll  wish  he  had  carried  it 
lower." 

"  Don't  blame  father,"  said  Atha,  sobbing,  "  I  know 
he  acted  for  the  best,  and  is  now  as  sorry  as  any  of  us 
that  he  treated  the  poor  fellow  so  harshly." 

"  You  are  right,  Atha,  my  dear,"  said  her  father,  pull- 
ing her  head  gently  down  upon  his  bosom,  "  Welch 
was  a  noble  fellow,  although  my  pride  revolted  at  the 
Indian  blood  in  his  veins ;  but  it  wasn't  much  after 
all, — and  you  love  him  Atha. — Cheer  up,  my  girl,  he 
will  return  to  us  again,  and  all  shall  yet  be  well. 
Who  knows  but  he  may  come  back  to  us  this  night, 
as  stormy  as  it  is  ?" 

Atha  shook  her  head  with  mournful  incredulity,  but 
the  words  of  her  father,  accompanied  by  the  kind  ex- 
pression of  his  countenance,  had  fallen  with  balsamic 
influence  upon  her  wounded  feelings,  and,  to  use  a 
hackneyed  figure  of  the  poets,  a  tranquil  smile  lighted 
up  her  countenance  as  she  wiped  away  her  tears,  like 
a  rainbow  painted  on  a  departing  cloud. 

"  Now,  I  wonder,  Bob  Aymor,"  cried  Dolly,  at  the 


EONEGUSKI.  21 

very  pitch  of  her  voice,  "  if  you  do  really  ever  expect  to 
see  John  Welch  again?  For  my  part,  I'd  as  soon  look 
for  cranberries  in  the  cornfield; — and  to  night  too? 
why  you  might  as  well  expect  an  angel  from  Heaven !" 
The  latch  of  the  outer  door  was  now  heard  to  move, 
and  as  every  eye  involuntarily  turned  in  that  direction, 
the  thought  flashed  through  every  mind  "It  is  he!" 
The  heart  of  Atha  throbbed  violently — she  gasped  for 
breath,  and  was  constrained  to  cling  to  her  father's  chair 
for  support.  The  door  opened,  and  a  figure  entered — 
"My  God!"  exclaimed  Atha,  as  the  light  fell  upon 
straight  black  locks,  and  was  reflected  from  piercing 
black  eyes,  which  gave  expression  to  a  bright  copper-co- 
lored countenance.  But,  with  the  quickness  of  thought, 
she  perceived  that  her  eager  hope  had  mislead  her,  and 
that  no  drop  of  the  white  man's  blood  animated  the 
being  who  now  approached  the  fire.  He  had  upon  his 
entrance  shaken  from  his  hat  and  the  blanket  wrapped 
about  his  shoulders,  the  masses  of  snow  which  had 
gathered  upon  them,  as  well  as  from  his  moccasins  of 
tanned  deer-skin,  of  one  piece  with  the  leggins  encasing 
his  lower  extremities.  The  leggins  and  moccasins 
were  laced  up  with  strings  of  horse  hair,  composed  of 
mingled  strains  of  red,  blue,  and  yellow,  of  a  very 
bright  dye.  The  eyelet  holes,  through  which  the 
strings  passed,  were  inwrought  with  the  quill  part  of 
the  feathers  of  birds,  dyed  in  the  same  variety  of  colors 
with  the  horse  hair.  Breeches  of  the  same  material 
with  his  leggins,  and  a  hunting  shirt  of  coarse  cotton, 
completed  the  habiliments  of  the  stranger.  His  wrists 
were  ornamented  with  bracelets,  formed  of  beads,  and 
his  ears  with  large  rings  suspended  from  their  tips.  At 
his  back  hung  a  bow  and  quiver,  and  on  his  right  side, 
beneath  his  blanket,  a  shot  pouch  and  powder  horn. 
In  his  right  hand  he  bore  a  rifle,  the  breech  of  which 
he  brought  down  upon  the  floor,  as  he  advanced. 

This  apparition,  who,  when  they  discovered  that  it 
was  a  full  blooded  Indian,  ceased  to  interest  the  hopes 
or  apprehensions  of  the  family  circle,  upon  which  he  had 


22  EONEGUSKI. 

obtruded  himself,  (for  they  were  no  strangers  to  such 
visiters,)  was  about  the  middle  stature,  of  a  graceful  ac- 
tive form,  with  the  proverbial  straightness  of  his  race. 
With  a  measured  and  stately  pace  he  advanced  towards 
the  fire,  without  deigning  to  address  himself  to  any  one, 
and  silently  changed  his  position  from  time  to  time,  so 
as  most  advantageously  to  diffuse  the  genial  glow 
through  his  chilled  members.  Those  in  whose  pre- 
sence he  stood,  were  too  well  acquainted  with  the  habits 
of  his  race  to  feel  any  surprise,  or  sense  of  rude  treat- 
ment, from  the  unceremonious  entrance,  or  silent  free- 
dom of  the  savage.  A  significant  "  umph  !"  an- 
nounced, at  length,  that  the  process  of  warming  himself 
had  been  so  far  accomplished,  as,  according  to  his  own 
ideas  of  propriety,  to  render  silence  no  longer  becom- 
ing. 

"  The  white  man,"  he  said,  addressing  Aymor,  "  has 
often  found  food  and  shelter  in  the  wigwams  of  the 
Cherokees.  In  my  father's  hut  the  white  man  is  wel- 
come to  warm  by  the  blaze  of  his  fire,  and  to  satisfy  his 
hunger  from  the  pot  of  *Connehany,  which  stands 
ready  on  his  hearth  ." 

"  You  are  welcome,"  said  Aymor,  laconically.  A 
significant  glance  from  her  father  was  sufficient  and 
Atha  proceeded  to  set  before  the  famished  son  of  the 
forest  the  remnants  of  their  evening  meal.  Having 
satisfied  the  cravings  of  hunger,  by  availing  himself,  in 
moderation,  of  what  was  set  before  him,  the  Indian, 
wrapped  in  his  blanket,  laid  down  to  repose  beside  the 
fire.  His  host  and  family  soon  sought  their  respec- 
tive places  of  rest,  and  sepulchral  stillness  reigned 
through  the  mansion,  whose  inmates  had  undergone 
the  change  so  typical  of  that  at  which  our  nature  shud- 
ders. 

*  Connehany,  a  kind  of  sour  homony. 


EONEGtJSKI. 


CHAPTER  II. 

In  shape,  mein,  manners,  prowess,  solid  parts, 
A  man  complete.  B.  F.  B. 

There  is  a  wide  difference  in  the  habits  of  various 
portions  of  the  great  family  of  man,  in  their  distribution 
of  the  twenty-four  hours,  which  constitute  the  day. 
By  some,  the  order  of  nature  is  entirely  reversed,  and 
the  gratuitous  brightness  of  Heaven  is  shut  out  from 
their  dwellings,  while  they  press  the  bed  of  untimely 
slumber,  and  are,  consequently,  driven  to  purchase  from 
art  much  of  the  light  by  which  their  labors  are  perform- 
ed, and  their  revelry  enjoyed.  Such  were  not  the  ha- 
bits in  which  Robert  Aymor  had  been  trained ;  and  he, 
in  his  turn,  both  by  precept  and  example,  enforced  upon 
his  household  the  custom  of  early  rising. 

But  on  the  morning  succeeding  the  evening  mention- 
ed in  our  last  chapter,  the  family  of  Aymor  did  not  find 
themselves  intruders  upon  the  unfinished  slumbers  of 
their  guest.  He  had  left  the  cottage,  at  what  hour  none 
of  them  could  tell,  for  his  departure  had  been  as  noiseless 
as  the  fall  of  the  flakes  of  snow,  with  which  all  nature 
was  covered.  Some  little  gossip  there  was  among  them, 
who  he  could  be ;  but  his  unceremonious  departure  was 
to  them  a  matter  of  no  more  surprise  than  his  abrupt 
entrance,  and,  in  a  few  moments,  the  thoughts  of  him 
were  completely  dismissed  from  their  minds.  There 
was  a  suspension  in  the  storm, — and  the  day  passed  on, 
cold,  cheerless,  and  cloudy,  without  any  actual  fall  of 
either  snow,  rain,  or  hail.  Night  quickly  returned, 
and  with  it  the  renewed  storm,  although  with  mitigated 
violence.  Then  also  returned  to  the  cottage  of  Aymor, 
the  visiter  of  the  preceding  evening,  in  the  same  guise 


24  EONEGUSKL 

and  accoutrements,  and  with  the  addition  of  a  heavy- 
burden  upon  his  shoulders,  beneath  which  he  staggered 
near  to  the  fire-place,  and  threw  it  upon  a  rude  bench. 
"  Aha !"  said  he,  as  he  gave  it  a  slap  with  his  hand,  and 
regarded  it  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction,  which  seemed 
to  glance  off  from  that  object  towards  the  family  circle, 
"*How-wih."  "That  is  a  noble  buck,"  said  Aymor, 
"but  you  must  have  toiled  hard  for  it  in  a  country 
where  deer  is  so  plenty,  if  that  is  the  only  fruit  of 
a  whole  day's  labor."  "  It  is  yours,"  said  the  Indian, 
not  appearing  to  notice  Aymor's  last  remark.  In  a 
very  short  time  a  portion  of  the  skin  of  the  deer  was 
stripped  aside,  and  a  few  choice  slices  of  his  flesh 
laid  upon  the  coals,  were  added  to  their  simple  supper. 
The  host  shared  with  his  provident  guest  his  family 
meal,  but  little  seasoned  with  discourse,  to  which  the 
latter  seemed  rather  averse ;  and,  according  to  the  custom 
of  those  who  early  shake  off  slumber  in  the  morning, 
they  were  all  ready  soon  after  supper  to  return  to  its 
embraces. 

The  next  morning,  like  the  preceding,  did  not  find 
his  Indian  guest  in  the  cottage  of  Aymor,  but  his 
place  was  not  empty  in  the  evening  at  the  hospitable 
board,  nor  was  his  blanket  wrapped  form  wanting  at 
bed  time  to  repose  beside  the  hearth.  For  several  suc- 
cessive days  and  nights  the  Indian  came  and  went,  in 
the  same  manner,  always  bringing  with  him  some  piece 
of  choice  game  for  the  table  of  his  kind  entertainer,  of 
whom  his  independent  soul  seemed  to  disdain  the  receipt 
of  unrequited  benefits.  When,  however,  the  weather 
had  somewhat  moderated,  he  no  longer  constituted  a 
member  of  the  evening  circle  around  Aymor's  hearth, 
although  he  would  occasionally  drop  in  at  irregular 
hours,  sometimes  to  apprize  Aymor  where  he  would 
find  a  fat  buck  which  the  Cherokee  had  brought  down 
with  his  rifle,  too  ponderous  for  convenient  carriage  by 
his  single  strength,  and  sometimes  to  be  himself  the 
bearer  of  some  lighter  present. 

*  How-wih,  signifies  in  the  Cherokee  tongue,  "  Deer." 


EONEGTJSKI.  25 

At  length  it  became  a  matter  of  casual  inquiry  with 
Aymor,  as  well  as  with  other  members  of  his  family, 
what  the  object  of  the  Indian  could  be,  in  thus  remaining 
so  long-  in  their  neighborhood,  where  he  was  too  often 
seen,  to  allow  the  supposition  that  he  ever  left  it  far ; 
and  one  less  bold  and  fearless  than  Aymor,  might  have 
suspected  a  motive  fraught  with  danger  to  himself.  He 
was  not  ignorant  of  the  craft  of  the  savage,  and  that 
with  him  an  appearance  of  friendship,  is  not  unfre- 
quently  the  fair  cluster  of  flowers  beneath  which  the 
deadliest  malice  lies  coiled,  like  a  serpent,  for  a  more 
fatal  and  effectual  spring.  But  he  knew,  also,  that  the 
savage,  in  common  with  other  human  beings,  seldom 
acts  without  a  motive,  and  has  too  much  sagacity  to 
hazard,  in  the  mere  wantonness  of  mischief,  his  own 
safety ;  and  that  between  himself  and  the  Cherokee 
wanderer,  now  in  his  vicinity,  there  could  be  no  just 
cause  of  feud.  The  truth  is,  Aymor's  bosom  was  almost 
a  stranger  to  fear,  and  the  only  sentiment  excited  in  his 
mind  in  relation  to  the  purpose  of  the  savage,  was  one  of 
simple  curiosity.  Even  this  did  not  much  trouble  him, 
and  he  permitted  the  Indian  daily  to  cross  his  path  un- 
questioned. Indeed,  how  could  he  obtrude  himself  into 
the  confidence  of  one  who  seemed  so  much  to  shun  con- 
versation, and  upon  whose  providence  he  was  hourly 
feeding?  Such  was  the  literal  fact,  for  Aymor  could 
not  say  that  he  had  sat  down  to  a  meal  since  this  stran- 
ger had  visited  his  house,  that  some  article  supplied  by 
him  did  not  constitute  its  most  attractive  portion. 

Gideon  Aymor,  as  we  have  said,  was  active  and  en- 
terprising, yet  something  had  prevented  him  from  giv- 
ing his  wonted  attention  to  forest  sports  for  some  weeks 
previous  to  the  arrival  of  the  Indian,  and  for  some  time 
afterwards.  At  length  this  cause  of  temporary  suspen- 
sion passed  away,  and  he  began  to  resume  his  gun,  and 
would  frequently  in  his  wanderings  fall  in  with  this 
new  acquaintance.  Although  he  did  not  at  first  find 
the  Indian  very  communicative,  similarity  of  pursuit 
would  carry  them  far  and  long  together,  until  at  length 

VOL.  I. — 3. 


26  EONEGUSKI. 

kindly  feelings  sprang  up  between  them.  Gideon 
perceived,  after  a  few  days  hunting  with  the  Indian, 
that  he  had  greatly  overrated  his  own  skill  in  wood- 
craft, and  was,  in  that  art,  simple  as  it  may  seem, 
at  an  immeasurable  distance  behind  his  companion, 
from  whom  he  was  hourly  learning  some  new  piece 
of  stratege — sometimes  to  steal,  unawares,  upon  the 
unsuspecting  game — sometimes  to  attract  it  within 
reach  of  his  treacherous  aim — at  others  to  place  him- 
self in  a  situation  to  meet,  in  their  silly  flight,  vic- 
tims who  fancied  they  were  leaving  him  far  behind. 
Besides  these,  he  learnt  from  him  much  that  he  knew 
not  before,  in  the  preparation,  carriage,  and  use  of  his 
weapons,  and  the  best  methods  of  butchering  the  larger 
game  after  he  had  brought  it  down,  as  well  as  the 
habits  and  places  of  resort  of  the  different  animals,  to- 
gether with  many  other  things,  manifesting  profound 
sagacity  in  the  teacher,  and  highly  convenient  for  an 
accomplished  hunter  to  know. 

As  restraint  wore  off  between  them,  Gideon  was  em- 
boldened to  inquire  of  his  companion,  in  direct  terms, 
the  name  he  bore.  "  I  am  called  Eoneguski,  or  the 
Big  Bear,"  was  the  reply ;  and  with  that  Gideon  was 
satisfied. 

Some  weeks  had  passed  by  unheeded  since  Eone- 
guski had  been  in  habits  of  association  with  Gideon, 
when,  one  morning,  the  latter  joined  the  former  upon  a 
preconcerted  excursion.  Gideon  had  hitherto  worn  his 
shot-pouch  suspended  by  a  narrow  belt  of  leather, 
which  passed  over  his  shoulder,  extending  diagonally 
to  the  opposite  side.  That  was  now.  thrown  aside, 
and  a  broad  one,  of  net  woollen,  occupied  its  place. 
It  was  of  a  bright  scarlet  color,  except  a  space  upon 
the  middle  of  the  breast,  which  was  left  white,  de- 
scribing two  hearts  blended.  The  device,  the  neat- 
ness of  the  execution,  the  novelty,  and,  above  all,  the 
bright  red  color,  (being  a  well  known  Indian  dye,  of 
which  the  whites  were  generally  ignorant,)  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  savage,  who  laid  his  hand  upon  the 


EONEGUSKI.  27 

belt,  with  one  of  those  calm  expressions  of  admiration 
which  is  the  utmost  savages  generally  allow  themselves. 
"It  is  a  present  from  my  sister  Atha,"  said  Gideon,  "  it 
was  net  by  her  two  or  three  years  ago,  for  her  sweet- 
heart, John  Welch,  but  some  how  or  other  she  never 
gave  it  to  him;  and  my  father  objected  to  her  having 
any  thing  more  to  say  to  him,  so  she  gave  it  to  me  seve- 
ral weeks  since,  and  I  just  fancied  this  morning  that  I 
would  put  it  on." 

Gideon  saw  no  motion,  either  in  the  countenance  or 
frame  of  the  Indian,  during  these  remarks,  which  were 
made  by  himself  with  the  most  familiar  indifference. 
But  he  had  unconsciously  waked  from  their  repose  pas- 
sions wild  and  active,  within  a  heart  in  which  they 
resided  in  tremendous  power.  Yet  pride,  the  most  pow- 
erful among  them,  even  in  the  savage,  held  the  rest  in 
subjection,  and  allowed  them  not  to  betray  themselves 
in  the  workings  of  the  countenance. 

After  a  short  pause,  the  Indian  replied,  "  Your  sis- 
ter loves  John  Welch  V  But,  without  design,  there 
was  something  in  the  tone  of  his  voice  which  star- 
tled him  to  whom  the  question  was  addressed.  Gideon 
turned  a  surprised,  hasty,  and  inquisitive  glance  upon 
the  countenance  of  the  savage,  but  perceiving  nothing 
there,  in  its  cold  composure,  to  justify  the  suspicion 
which,  with  the  instantaneous  energy  of  electricity,  the 
question,  with  its  tone  of  voice,  had  stirred  into  being, 
he  replied  with  a  smile  of  renewed  confidence,  "  I  be- 
lieve— nay,  I  may  say,  I  know  she  does." 

"  Would  she  marry  him?"  was  the  quick  reply. 

"  She  would,  if  my  father's  consent  could  be  obtain- 
ed :  of  that  she  has  despaired  hitherto,  but  I  believe,  if 
John  Welch  ever  again  makes  his  appearance,  they 
will  be  married."  His  habitual  self-command  was  in- 
sufficient to  suppress  a  groan  which  now  escaped  the 
savage.  Again  the  formerly  short-lived  suspicions  of 
Gideon  sprung  up  in  his  mind,  and  agitated  it  with 
contending  thoughts.  He  cast  a  stern,  inquisitive  look 
once  more  upon  the  face  of  the  Indian ;  but  the  page 


28  EONEGUSKI. 

was  blank  he  sought  to  read,  and  he  was  again  baffled 
in  his  attempt  to  penetrate  the  thoughts  of  his  com- 
panion. The  subject  was  now  dropped  between  them, 
and,  with  listless  apathy,  the  two  hunters  continued 
their  route,  scarcely  exchanging  a  word,  and  each 
seemingly  occupied  with  other  thoughts  than  of  the 
business  they  were  on.  Their  labor  was  more  unpro- 
ductive than  usual,  and  they  finally  separated  as  men 
who  have  been  better  friends,  without  being  at  the  same 
time  able  to  make  any  well  defined  complaint  against 
each  other. 

Many  days  elapsed  and  Gideon  had  not  rejoined  the 
Indian  in  his  woodland  excursions,  and  notwithstanding 
this,  the  latter  continued  to  pay  his  occasional  visits  to 
the  cottage  of  Aymor.  Yet  he  could  not  but  remark 
a  great  alteration  in  the  manner  of  his  reception,  with 
two,  at  least,  of  its  inmates.  That  of  Gideon  was  cold 
and  distant,  whilst  Atha's  amounted  almost  to  shudder- 
ing abhorrence.  This  change  was  deeply  mortifying  to 
the  pride  of  the  savage,  and  he  half  resolved  to  expose 
himself  no  more  to  such  trials.  But  pushed  onward  by 
that  most  irresistible  of  all  forces  in  noble  natures,  the 
sense  of  duty,  he  determined  to  bear  with  present  incon- 
veniences, in  the  hope  of  enjoying  the  happy  result, 
when  he  should  stand  more  than  justified  before  those 
by  whom  he  was  now  evidently  suspected. 

It  will  not  have  escaped  the  reader,  that  the  interest 
manifested  by  Eoneguski  in  his  sister's  love  affairs  had 
induced  Gideon  to  suspect  him  of  entertaining  towards 
her  presumptuous  hopes  for  himself,  and  the  groan 
which  had  escaped  the  Indian  confirmed  the  suspicion, 
so  as  to  arouse  the  youth's  indignation,  and  even  hatred, 
against  his  late  friend.  His  conduct  had  been  according ; 
but  the  ridiculous  position  in  which  he  would  have  stood, 
should  his  suspicions  prove  groundless,  was  a  seal  upon 
his  lips,  and  prevented  his  charging  Eoneguski  with  his 
supposed  offence.  The  sagacious  savage  was  not  slow 
in  discovering  these  suspicions,  and  penetrating  their 
nature;  but  his  native  dignity,  delicacy,  and  pride,  re- 


EONEGUSKI.  29 

coiled  from  speaking  of  them,  and  he  therefore  suffered 
himself  to  remain,  unjustly,  their  object,  until  some  fa- 
vorable occasion  should  present  itself  for  their  removal. 
He  naturally  accounted  for  the  loathing  horror  which 
Atha  manifested  towards  him,  by  Gideon's  having 
infused  into  her  mind  his  own  suspicions.  Natural  as 
this  was,  he  was,  however,  mistaken,  and  Gideon  and 
Atha  were  acting,  although,  seemingly,  so  consenta- 
neously against  him,  upon  totally  different  motives. 

The  cold  weather  was  passing  away,  and  in  the  more 
sheltered  valleys  and  coves,  where  Spring  could  be  most 
secure  from  the  rude  intrusions  of  Winter,  (in  those  fits 
of  passion  which  he  sometimes  manifests  when  reluct- 
antly yielding  up  his  empire,)  she  was  amusing  herself 
with  a  few  of  her  earliest  favorites,  dropping  here  and 
there  a  floral  gem  upon  the  margin  of  some  brook, 
as  she  bent  over  it  in  listening  to  its  song  of  welcome. 
The  wounded  pride  of  the  Indian,  although  it  had  not 
been  sufficient  to  restrain  them  altogether,  had  yet 
greatly  diminished  the  frequency  of  his  visits  at  the 
house  of  Aymor :  and  several  days  had  elapsed  since 
he  had  made  any  of  his  usual  presents  to  the  family ; 
when  his  heart  thus  held  communion  with  itself: — "  It 
can  be  borne  no  longer ;  Why  should  the  white  man 
believe  a  lie?  I  will  go  to  him — he  shall  know  the 
truth — and  Eoneguski  and  Gideon  shall  once  more  be 
friends,  or  open  enemies.  Why  do  I  linger  here,  when 
the  Great  Spirit  has  said,  that  my  errand  shall  not  be 
accomplished  1  I  will  go  once  more  to  the  home  of 
Aymor,  and  they  shall  all  see  the  heart  of  Eoneguski, 
and  I  will  then  return  to  my  own  sunny  land,  where 
the  voice  of  the  *wekolis  is  telling  of  the  coming  sum- 
mer." 

'Twas  evening,  and  the  sun  was  stealing  the  last 
kiss  from  the  beautiful  landscape  which  surrounded  the 
dwelling  of  Aymor,  when  Eoneguski  glided  into  it 
with  a  shy  timidity,  very  different  from  his  wonted  man- 
ner, bearing  in  his  hand  a  brace  of  beautiful  pheasants 
*  Wekolis — Whip-poor.will. 

3* 


30  EONEGUSKl. 

he  had  just  brought  down  from  one  of  the  summits  of 
the  Homony.  "  You  had  better  keep  them,  Eonegus- 
ki,"  said  Gideon,  "  your  presents  are  no  longer  accept- 
able here." 

The  savage  retreated  a  step,  as  though  he  had  dis- 
covered at  his  feet  a  rattlesnake,  coiled  in  its  deadly 
folds.  "  It  is  well ;"  said  he,  "  the  son  of  Eonah  licks 
not  the  foot  that  spurns  him."  He  turned  to  depart — 
hesitated  for  a  moment — then  turned  again  to  Gideon. 
"  Young  man,"  continued  he,  "  the  Great  Spirit  knows 
the  hearts  he  has  made,  and  nothing  is  hid  from  his 
eyes ;  but  his  children  cannot  read  the  hearts  of  each 
other.  I  would  that  mine  were  open  to  you,  like  my 
hand,  (extending  at  the  same  time  his  palm,)  that  you 
might  see  how  much  you  wrong  me.  Come  to  me  to- 
morrow, just  as  yon  hill  is  again  bathed  in  the  return- 
ing light  of  the  sun,  and  Gideon  and  Eoneguski  will 
yet  be  friends.  Promise  me  this,  and  my  spirit  will  be 
satisfied ;  if  not,  the  son  of  Eonah  must  wash  out,  as 
he  is  wont  to  do,  insult  in  the  offender's  blood. — But 
you  will  come ;  I  know  you  will  come,"  continued  he, 
in  a  beseeching  tone  of  voice,  "for  why  should  the 
knife  be  between  us  ?" 

"  Where  shall  I  come?"  inquired  Gideon. 

"  It  will  not  be  the  first  time,"  he  replied,  "  that  you 
have  seen  where  Eoneguski  sleeps." 

"  It  is  enough,  I  will  come,"  said  Gideon. 

"  And  is  the  gift  of  the  Cherokee  still  despised  by 
the  white  man  ?"  inquired  the  savage. 

"No!"  replied  Gideon,  "we  are  friends  again;  at 
least  until  I  see  whether  you  can  make  good  your  pro- 
mise." "  It  is  well,"  replied  the  Indian,  once  more 
placing  the  pheasants  upon  the  table,  and  retreating 
from  the  cottage. 


EONEGUSKI.  31 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  noise  of  parting  boughs  was  heard — 
Within  the  wood  a  footstep  stirr'd ; 
The  partner  of  her  grief  appears, 
To  kiss  away  her  falling  tears. 

Yamoyden. 

From  the  side  of  the  elevation  on  which  the  house 
of  Aymor  was  situated,  gushed  forth  a  fountain,  clear 
and  copious.  It  was  from  that  side  which  fronted 
the  south,  and  while,  therefore,  it  was  a  spot  among 
the  earliest  to  acknowledge  the  genial  influence  of 
spring,  and  where  autumn  delighted  the  latest  to 
linger — in  the  midst  of  summer,  shaded,  as  it  was, 
by  thick  foliage,  and  fanned  by  the  breath  of  the 
"  sweet  south,"  it  was  remarkable  for  its  refreshing 
coolness.  This  then  was  a  favorite  resort  for  the  fami- 
ly, for  many  reasons.  Apart  from  the  temptations 
already  mentioned,  which  it  held  out  for  hours  of  idle- 
ness, it  had  many  attractions  for  the  foot  of  industry. 
Here  the  spring-house  was  erected,  (that  most  essential 
requisite  for  those  who  would  have  good  milk  and  but- 
ter,) within  whose  ample  area  all  the  interesting  labors 
of  the  dairy  were  performed.  Here,  likewise,  that  most 
necessary  article  in  the  art  of  purification,  clear  water, 
was  to  be  found  in  sufficient  abundance,  and  thither, 
accordingly,  those  members  on  whom  devolved  the  duty 
of  restoring  to  their  original  purity,  the  soiled  garments 
of  the  family,  periodically  repaired. 

On  the  morning  when  Gideon  had  sallied  out,  graced 
with  that  belt  already  described,  as  wrought  by  the 
fair  hands  of  his  sister  Atha,  he  had  not  passed  by 
her  unnoticed,  though  her  heart  was  too  full  to  venture 


32  EONEGUSKI. 

a  word  of  address  to  him.  The  sight  of  that  belt 
brought  with  it  mingled  emotions  of  pain  and  plea- 
sure. It  had,  as  Gideon  said,  been  wrought  by  her, 
in  the  innocence  of  virgin  love,  as  a  slight  offering 
of  affection  to  him  whose  heart  she  supposed,  and 
therefore  thought  it  no  impropriety  to  represent,  as 
blended  with  her  own.  But  after  she  had  finished  it 
she  could  never  find  courage  to  present  it,  although 
opportunities  were  not  wanting  to  have  done  so,  until 
her  father's  expressed  disapprobation  of  their  union 
had  determined  her  to  smother  an  affection  she  could 
never  hope  to  extinguish.  Abandoning,  therefore,  all 
thought  of  giving  it  to  him  for  whom  it  was  origi- 
nally designed,  she  had  no  difficulty  in  yielding  it  to 
the  request  of  her  brother.  It  was  a  request  made  by 
him,  more  in  idleness  than  desire,  and  it  was,  therefore, 
some  time  after  receiving  the  gift,  before  he  put  it  to 
any  use.  This  morning,  in  the  waywardness  of  fancy, 
he  happened  to  put  it  on,  and,  by  so  doing,  powerfully 
stirred  the  heart  of  his  sister,  newly  excited  by  hopes, 
which  had  withered  in  the  winter  of  her  father's  frown, 
but  were  now  putting  forth  afresh  under  the  warmth 
of  his  approving  smile.  It  was  with  great  timidity  she 
ventured  to  launch  her  bark  of  hope : — for  that  lover, 
her  union  with  whom  her  father's  approbation  had 
been  all  that  was  wanting,  was  now,  she  knew  not 
where,  and  might  never  reappear  to  claim  the  hand 
awaiting  only  his  demand.  In  this  state  of  things  an 
agitation  was  produced  in  her  spirits,  by  the  sight  of  the 
belt,  unfitting  her  for  a  time  for  her  usual  occupations, 
and  to  recover  her  self-possession,  she  sauntered  down 
to  the  fountain. 

Here,  throwing  herself  upon  a  seat  where  she  had 
often  in  the  happy  and  artless  days  of  childhood,  sat, 
in  pastime  with  her  now  absent  lover,  the  past,  the 
present,  and  future,  shifted  rapidly  in  her  mind  their 
varigated  scenery.  Absorbed  in  reflection,  she  almost 
unconsciously  commenced  humming  to  a  well  known 
air,  the  following  words,  which  had  been  brought  to 


EONEGUSKI.  33 

the  western  wilds  by  some  visiter  from  a  more  civilized 
region : — 

Love  sly]  y  weaves  his  flow'ry  chain, 
And  binds  the  captive  heart ; 
The  cool  fresh  flow'rs  inflict  no  pain 
So  deep  the  tyrant's  art. 

Another,  yet  another  wreath 

He  archly  throws  around  ; 

The  flow'rs  abroad  their  fragrance  breathe  ; 

Th'  unconscious  heart  is  bound. 

As  gossamers  in  fairy  plies, 

The  captive  insect  bind, 

The  heart  subdued  and  panting  lies 

In  flow'ry  chains  confin'd. 

But  when  has  vanished  from  that  chain 
The  fresh  and  fragrant  breath  ; 
The  captive  strives,  to  break,  in  vain, 
A  bondage  strong  as  death. 

The  gay  soft  leaves  no  more  conceal 
The  lurking  thorns  beneath, 
But  give  the  wounded  heart  to  feel 
Flow'rs  form  not  all  the  wreath. 

Too  late  against  its  bondage  vile 
The  heart  may  efforts  make  ; 
The  fetters  gather  strength,  the  while 
The  heart  alone  may  break. 

"  And  do  I  find  my  Atha  planning  rebellion  against 
the  dominion  of  Love,"  said  a  melancholy  voice,  close  to 
her  ear,  "  at  the  very  moment,  when  I  am  drawn  hither 
the  passive  slave  of  his  will,  at  you  know  not  what  risk, 
to  enjoy  with  the  chosen  of  my  heart,  one  brief  inter- 
view." It  were  needless  to  say,  that  Atha  did  not  re- 
main motionless  in  her  seat,  when  she  saw  the  arms  of 
John  Welch  stretched  out  to  embrace  her ;  she  uttered  a 
cry  of  wild  delight,  and  threw  herself  upon  his  bosom. 
"  Atha,  my  dear,"  said  Welch,  "  you  must  calm  your 
transports:    I  have    already  said  that    I   have  but  a 


34  EOTTEGrSKI. 

moment  to  remain  with  you,  and  even  that  is  fraught 
with  imminent  peril." 

11  You  need  not  fear  any  longer  to  be  here,"  she  said, 
looking  up  in  his  face  with  a  smile  of  confidence,  "  my 
father  is  not  now  displeased,  but  is  anxiously  desiring  to 
see  you." 

"  A  few  days  ago,  Atha,  and  that  information  would 
have  made  me  a  happy  man,  but  now  it  is  as  the  sight 
of  water  to  one  dying  under  the  scorching  fire  of  fever, 
to  whom  strength  no  longer  remains  to  stretch  forth  his 
hand  and  bring  it  to  his  lips." 

"  Gracious  Heavens !  John,"  cried  Atha,  in  alarm, 
"  what  can  you  mean  ?" 

"  I  scarcely  know  myself,  love ;  my  brain  is,  I  fear, 
unsettled;  but  there  is  amid  the  wild  confusion  within  me 
one  idea  more  horribly  distinct  than  every  other,  and 
that  is,  that  I  am  now  looking  for  the  last  time  on  Atha 
Aymor." 

"  I  now  perceive,"  said  Atha,  "  a  great  change  in 
your  appearance.  My  God !  how  pale  and  haggard 
you  are,  and  there  is  a  wildness  in  your  eye,  which 
frightens  me,  even  more  than  your  strange  and  unintel- 
ligible language.  Tell  me,  for  Heaven's  sake,  what  is 
the  matter." 

"  You  see  not,  Atha,  the  stain  of  blood  upon  this 
hand ;  yet  this  hand  is  bloody.  All  the  waters  of  Broad 
River  cannot  wash  it  clean.  A  weight  presses  on  my 
Conscience,  scarcely  less  than  if  that  huge  rock,  which 
juts  out  from  the  mountain  side,  rested  upon  it.  A  cold 
blooded  murderer  can  never  be  the  husband  of  Atha 
Aymor!" 

"  Oh  John !  your  brain  is  disordered ;  you  are  not 
a  murderer,"  said  the  girl,  shuddering,  and  shrinking 
instinctively  from  a  bosom  to  which  she  had  hitherto 
clung  with  confiding  tenderness ;  "  I  can  never  believe 
it." 

"  Your  kind  heart,  would,  I  doubt  not,  find  much  to 
plead  in  extenuation  of  my  offence,  did  you  know  all,  but 
no  time  is  now  allowed  me  for  explanation.    The  avenger 


EONEGUSKI.  35 

of  blood  is  behind  me,  Atha,  and  I  know — yes,  I  know 
well,  it  would  drive  you  to  madness  to  see  me  perish 
before  your  eyes.  But  even  your  presence  would  be 
no  security  against  my  relentless  pursuer.  I  came 
here  to  seek  refuge  among  the  haunts  of  my  youth, 
until  the  storm  should  be  overpast,  but  the  fiend  who 
maddened  me  to  my  ruin,  hath  deceived  me  even  in  this 
promise  of  safety.  One  of  my  pursuers  has  anticipated 
my  arrival;  I  must  leave  you  or  die.  Like  the  hunted 
deer,  I  must  continue  my  flight,  or  fall  a  prey  to  the 
hunter,  who  is  already  on  my  very  haunches.  Breathe 
it  not  for  many  days  to  any  human  creature,  lest  it 
reach  the  ears  of  the  fell  Eoneguski,  who  would  raise 
anew  the  yell  of  pursuit,  and  slake,  in  my  blood,  his 
thirst  of  vengeance.  I  have  but  just  escaped  from  the 
deadly  aim  of  his  rifle,  and  would  not  that  he  should 
have  the  slightest  clue  to  the  track  I  have  taken.  To- 
wards thee,  dearest,  no  pressure  of  adversity  can  ever 
change  the  feelings  of  my  heart,  but  I  must  now  fly 
for  my  life.  May  that  Being  who  is  the  God  of  the 
Christian,  and  the  Great  Spirit  of  the  Red  man,  and 
alike  the  Father  of  both,  watch  over  and  protect  you." 
He  imprinted  a  burning  kiss  on  her  speechless  lips, 
and  dived  into  the  thickest  of  the  forest. 

Overpowered  by  her  feelings,  Atha  had  sunk  back 
into  her  seat  during  the  last  speech  of  Welch,  in  a  state 
so  far  bordering  on  insensibility  as  to  be  unable  to  speak 
herself,  while,  at  the  same  time,  not  a  word  was  lost 
either  to  her  ear  or  understanding  of  all  that  he  uttered. 
Nor  did  she,  in  her  mental  conflict,  offer  any  resistance 
to  his  proposed  departure,  but  passively  received  his 
parting  embrace,  and  silently  gazed  upon  his  receding 
form.  When  the  last  glimpse  of  his  person  had  faded 
from  her  eye,  she  became  distressingly  conscious  of  the 
desolation  of  her  condition.  With  him  had  departed 
from  her  the  chief  object  of  existence,  and  she  was 
awfully  waked  up  from  a  transient  vision  of  happiness, 
leaving  behind  it  a  gloom  tenfold  thicker  than  that 
which  it  had  for  a  moment   displaced.     But  a  few 


36  EONEGUSKI. 

moments  since,  and  the  presence  of  John  Welch,  she 
had  fondly  imagined  was  all  that  was  wanting  to  com- 
plete her  earthly  happiness.  The  wish  to  see  him  had 
been  most  unexpectedly  and  suddenly  fulfilled,  but  he 
seemed  only  to  have  come  that  he  might  extinguish, 
with  his  own  hand,  her  little  lamp  of  hope,  which, 
with  such  careful  anxiety,  she  had  been  kindling  and 
trimming.  He  had  come  but  to  tell  her,  that  he  was 
unworthy  of  her  love,  and  that  unworthy  as  he  was, 
each  moment  threatened,  by  a  bloody  death,  to  cut  him 
off  from  reformation.  "  But  why  should  I  despair  V1 
she  said,  to  herself,  "  all  may  yet  be  well ;  his  tender- 
ness of  conscience  may  have  construed  an  act  of  neces- 
-sary  self-defence,  into  wilful  murder.  I  will  not  for  a 
moment  believe  him  guilty,  until  a  knowledge  of  the 
facts  forces  upon  me  the  horrid  conviction.  And  for 
his  life,  I  will  trust  to  that  Being  whose  glance  is  in  the 
sun-beam,  and  whose  breath  I  feel  in  the  air  which 
surrounds  me.  He  will  preserve  him,  and  yet  bring 
him  back  to  me  unchanged,  as  he  himself  said,  by  the 
pressure  of  adversity." 

However  men  may  differ  in  hours  of  prosperity,  the 
hearts  of  all,  when  laden  with  afflictions,  turn  in- 
stinctively to  Him  who  is  alone  able  to  bear  them  in 
their  stead.  And  who  has  failed  in  thus  turning,  to 
find  support  to  his  fainting  spirit?  The  lifting  up  of 
her  thoughts  towards  Heaven,  acted  like  magic  upon 
both  the  mental  feelings  and  physical  strength  of  Atha 
Aymor,  so  that  she  found  herself  at  once  able  to  return 
to  the  dwelling  of  her  father,  and  resume  her  labors 
with  more  composure  than  when  she  left  it. 

In  obedience  to  the  injunction  of  Welch,  she  did  not 
speak  of  having  seen  him  ;  but  it  was  with  difficulty  she 
could  repress  a  cry  of  horror  whenever  the  Indian  came 
into  her  presence.  Exceedingly  painful,  then,  were  her 
feelings,  when  she  heard  her  brother  accept  his  propo- 
sal to  meet  him  under  the  circumstances  described  in 
the  last  chapter.  For  an  instant  the  thought  came  into 
her  mind  that  she  might  use  Gideon  as  an  intercessor 


EONEGUSKI.  37 

between  Welch  and  Eoneguski,  but  from  the  fear  lest 
an  awkward  attempt  to  save  her  lover,  might  but  in- 
crease his  danger,  she  did  not  pursue  it.  And  now  her 
imagination  pictured  to  itself  her  rash  brother,  welter- 
ing beneath  the  tomahawk  of  the  incensed  savage,  of 
whose  bloody  propensities  she  had  formed  so  horrid  an 
estimate.  She  begged,  she  entreated  Gideon,  in  every 
form  of  appeal  she  could  think  of,  as  soon  as  Eoneguski 
had  left  the  house,  to  run  after  him  and  retract  his  im- 
prudent promise ;  or,  if  he  deemed  it  more  safe,  allow  it 
for  the  present  to  allay  the  resentment  of  the  Indian, 
without  entertaining  on  his  own  part  any  serious  pur- 
pose to  fulfil  it.  But  Gideon  was  a  man  not  easily  di- 
verted from  his  purposes,  either  by  entreaties  or  threats ; 
and  the  same  motives  which  impelled  him  so  far  to 
smother  his  pride,  as  to  accept  the  invitation  of  the 
savage,  backed,  as  it  was,  by  a  threat,  were  quite  suffi- 
cient to  render  all  the  entreaties  of  his  sister  but  as  the 
breath  of  the  breeze :  the  tears  upon  her  cheek  but  as 
the  dew  upon  the  flower. 


VOL.  I. 4. 


38  EONEGUSKI. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Child  of  a  race  whose  name  my  bosom  warms, 

— how  welcome  here. 

Campbell. 

The  morning  fulfilled  the  promises  of  the  preceding- 
evening,  and  the  sun  returned  over  the  eastern  moun- 
tain with  a  brightness  equal  to  that  in  which  he  had 
descended  behind  the  western.  But  he  was  met  by  a 
fierce  westerly  wind,  which  seemed  determined  to  main- 
tain, for  winter,  a  contest  for  the  Homony  Valley,  with 
that  powerful  ally  of  spring,  now  approaching,  with 
the  evident  purpose  of  establishing  over  it  the  domin- 
ion of  the  latter.  This  is  not  a  contest  to  be  decided  in 
the  brief  space  of  a  single  day,  but  occupies,  with 
varied  success,  weeks,  if  not  months,  in  the  region  of 
which  are  speaking.  Sometimes,  the  champion  of 
spring  comes  forth  in  the  morning,  in  his  renewed 
strength,  and  the  hoar  frost  and  ice  flakes,  reflecting 
his  ray,  tell  of  the  conquest  of  the  enemy  during  his 
indolent  absence.  By  mid-day  the  hoar  frost,  ascending 
in  light  vapor,  and  the  little  rills  of  water  trickling 
away  from  the  ice  flakes,  proclaim,  that  in  spite  of  the 
northern  and  western  blasts  opposing  him,  he  has  re- 
gained all  his  losses  of  the  night,  and  greatly  weaken- 
ed the  might  of  his  antagonists.  But  towards  evening 
his  strength  begins  to  faint,  and  he  retires  to  refresh 
himself,  leaving  the  field  to  the  possession  of  his  foes. 

It  was  one  of  those  days  of  strife,  thus  mentioned,  that 
Gideon,  true  to  his  appointment,  set  out  a  little  after 
sun-rise,  to  the  temporary  home  of  Eoneguski.  It  was 
situated  in  a  hollow,  formed  by  nature  in  the  side  of  the 
mountain,  about  two  miles  from  Aymor's  residence.  No 
path  or  road  lead  to  it;  but  he  who  now  sought  it 
was  too  well  acquainted  with  the   landmarks   in  its 


EONEGUSKI.  39 

vicinity  to  experience  any  difficulty  in  finding  a  place 
where  he  had  often  been  before.  A  lodge  of  the  sim- 
plest construction  was  formed,  by  piling  up  long  pieces 
of  oaken  bark  around  the  root  of  a  large  tree,  weighted 
down  by  some  heavier  materials.  The  omission  of  a 
few  pieces  of  bark,  in  front,  left  an  opening,  serving 
the  purposes  of  a  door,  which,  by  a  little  accommo- 
dation of  the  person  to  its  form,  one  could  enter  with- 
out much  inconvenience.  In  front  of  this  lodge  Gideon 
discovered  the  Indian,  busily  engaged  in  the  prepara- 
tion of  a  meal.  He  had  just  time  to  remove  from  the 
fire  the  food  he  was  preparing,  and  place  it  upon  a 
large  log,  when  his  guest  arrived.  Without  any  pre- 
vious salutation,  "  Eat"  said  the  Indian,  pointing  to  the 
food,  and  without  permitting  the  fixed  composure  of 
his  countenance  to  relax  into  a  smile,  "  Eat,  we  are 
friends,"  in  a  tone  of  voice,  compounded  of  assertion 
and  interrogation. 

Whatever  might  have  been  the  state  of  Gideon's  ap- 
petite, he  knew  too  much  of  the  habits  of  the  race  to 
which  his  host  belonged,  to  anticipate  any  friendly  in- 
tercourse with  him,  should  he  decline  his  invitation  to 
eat.  He  accordingly,  without  further  ceremony,  partook 
of  a  sufficiency  of  what  was  set  before  him,  to  satisfy 
the  savage,  rather  than  his  own  appetite.  A  gourd  full 
of  water  was  next  brought  by  the  Indian  from  a  neigh- 
boring brook ;  "  Drink,"  said  he,  and  Gideon  drank. 
The  host  now  gave  two  or  three  whiffs  from  a  pipe, 
formed  of  clay,  through  a  reed  of  considerable  length, 
and  handing  it  to  his  guest,  "  Smoke,"  said  he.  This 
being  done,  the  savage  ceremonial  was  completed. 

"  What  has  the  red  man  done  to  bring  the  cloud  be- 
tween him  and  his  white  brother?"  Eoneguski  began. 
This  was  a  puzzling  question  to  Gideon ;  and  as  his 
moral  courage  was  not  altogether  equal  to  his  physical, 
he  shrunk  from  the  difficulty,  in  obedience  to  the  first 
impulse,  but  to  add  in  his  own  experience  to  the  num- 
berless proofs  that  the  path  of  truth,  however  uninvi- 
ting at  its  entrance,  is,  after  all,  the  easiest  to  tread,— * 


40  EONEGUSKI. 

"  You  have  done  nothing,"  he  replied. 

"  And  does  the  white  man  take  up  and  throw  aside 
his  friend,  as  the  Indian  does  his  blanket?"  said  Eone- 
guski,  casting  his  own  from  him  with  indignation. 
"  Will  he  put  winter  in  his  looks,  as  he  passes  by  him, 
and  tell  him  he  hath  done  nothing?  Let  not  the  young 
man  speak  with  a  forked  tongue." 

"  You  misunderstand  me,"  said  Gideon,  stammering, 
and  ashamed  of  his  own  subterfuge.  "  The  white  man 
does  not  cast  off  his  friend  without  cause,  nor  is  Gideon 
wont  to  speak  with  the  tongue  of  falsehood.  I  said  you 
had  done  nothing  to  offend  me,  Eoneguski,  but  if  I  have 
not  misjudged  the  thoughts  of  your  heart,  they  are 
deeply  offensive  to  me." 

44  Look  upon  the  heart  of  Eoneguski,''  said  the  sav- 
age, w  for  he  carries  it  in  his  hand,  and  show  me  the 
black  spot  which  is  offensive  to  Gideon." 

"  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  ask  you  the  question,"  re- 
plied Gideon,  "  But  tell  me,  have  you  not  cast  an  eye 
of  presumptuous  love  upon  my  sister?" 

"  Now  you  have  spoken  like  a  man,"  said  the  In- 
dian, taking  him  eagerly  by  the  hand,  "  for  you  have 
spoken  according  to  your  thought,  and  not  with  the 
false  tongue  of  the  deceiver.  The  red  man  has  dared 
to  look  upon  the  beautiful  daughter  of  the  white  man — 
and  why  may  he  not  ? — Are  mine  eyes  forbidden  to 
drink  in  the  glorious  radiance  of  the  sun,  or  to  gaze 
with  delight  upon  the  moon,  when  she  touches  with 
her  beam,  the  mountain  of  my  birth? — I  know  that  they 
are  far  beyond  the  reach  of  this  arm,  and  no  desire  to 
possess  them  disquiets  me  when  I  behold  them.  With 
no  other  eye  have  I  looked  upon  the  lovely  daughter  of 
Aymor,  and  no  desire  hath  kindled  in  my  soul  when  I 
beheld  her.  The  love  of  Eoneguski  is  far  away,  with 
one  of  the  daughters  of  his  own  people.  Are  you  sa- 
tisfied ?" 

"  I  confess  that  I  have  wronged  you,"  replied  Gide- 
on, after  a  pause,  "  and  1  crave  your  pardon.  But  as  I 
have  thus  far  trespassed  upon  you,  allow  me  to  go  one 


EONEGtJSKI.  41 

step  farther. — Why  have  you  so  long  been  wandering 
in  this  vicinity?  And  why  were  you  so  much  disquiet- 
ed when  I  spoke  of  my  sister's  love  affairs  with  John 
Welch?" 

"Freedom,"  replied  the  Indian,  proudly,  "is  the 
birth-right  of  the  red  man.  He  wanders  as  free  as  the 
bird  which  sits  on  yonder  bough,  wheresoever  it  pleases 
him.  He  tells  not  his  own,  and  he  asks  not  another 
for  his  path.  But  I  am  ready  to  satisfy  you,  if  you 
will  first  tell  me  all  that  you  know  of  John  Welch,  and 
the  story  of  your  sisters  love." 

"  Your  terms  are  but  reasonable,"  replied  Gideon, 
"and  I  am  ready  to  comply  with  them." 

The  Indian  reclined  himself  upon  the  log  which  had 
lately  been  their  table,  and  listened  to  Gideon,  who  pro- 
ceeded as  follows  : — - 

gideon's  story. 

"  What  I  am  about  to  relate,  is  rather  what  I  have 
heard  from  others,  than  what  I  have  myself  actually 
witnessed;  but  I  can  avouch  for  its  truth  with  no  less 
certainty.  More  (than  twenty  years  ago,  (you  have  no 
doubt  heard,  and  may  perhaps  remember,)  the  place 
where  we  now  sit,  with  all  the  country  around,  even 
for  many  miles  eastwardly  of  the  Blue  Mountains,  was 
subject  to  the  invasion  of  the  Cherokee  Indians.  The 
white  man  could  not  lie  down  at  evening  in  safety,  nor 
go  out  in  the  morning  to  his  daily  labor  without  appre- 
hension. Behind  each  log  and  thicket  the  enemy  of 
his  race  laid  in  ambush,  and  the  report  of  the  rifle,  or 
the  glitter  of  the  tomahawk,  gave  the  first  intimation  of 
the  fate  they  bore.  The  stillness  of  his  midnight  re- 
pose was  suddenly  broken  by  the  war-whoop,  and  a  light 
more  glaring  than  that  of  the  sun,  burst  upon  his  eyes 
from  the  consuming  rafters  of  his  dwelling.  His  own 
destruction  would  but  follow  that  of  his  wife  and  little 
ones,  whose  reeking  scalps  were  torn  away,  or  then: 
brains  dashed  out  before  his  eyes. 
4* 


42  EONEGUSKI. 

"  My  father  then  dwelt  in  the  valley  of  the  Yadkin, 
beyond  the  Bine  Mountains,  and  the  Brushy  Hills  some 
distance  above,  where  that  river  sweeps  around,  and 
seems  to  turn  disdainfully  off  from  the  Pilot  Mountain, 
standing  in  its  solitary  grandeur,  and  catching  for  leagues 
in  every  direction,  the  eye  of  the  traveller.  He  was  then 
a  youth,  something  about  my  present  age,  residing  in  the 
house  of  my  grandfather.  Our  people  were  beset  on 
every  hand — from  the  east,  the  British  soldiers,  and, 
what  was  worse,  the  Tories,  were  pouring  in,  killing 
and  destroying  them ;  and  from  the  west  were  continu- 
al alarms  of  destruction  by  the  Indians.  Like  brave 
men,  our  people  determined  to  look  the  danger  in  the 
face,  and  overcome  it,  or  fall  beneath  it.  Whilst  others 
were  left  to  do  what  they  could  with  the  British  and 
Tories,  General  Rutherford  marched  with  about  two 
thousand  volunteers,  to  break  up  the  Indian  settlements 
in  this  vicinity.  My  father  was  among  the  followers 
of  General  Rutherford,  and  delights,  even  to  this  day, 
to  tell  of  the  hardships  of  that  campaign.  But  the 
deed  was  done — retribution  was  taken — for  every  drop 
of  white  blood  shed  by  the  Indians,  they  were  compelled 
to  yield  at  least  ten  from  their  own  veins,  and  slaughter, 
not  less  cruel  than  their  own,  was  visited  upon  them. — 
Their  houses  were  burnt — their  fields  ravaged — and 
their  wives  and  little  ones  experienced  as  little  respect 
or  pity  for  age  or  sex,  as  they  themselves  had  been  ac- 
customed to  shew. 

"  Among  the  volunteers  who  fought  under  General 
Rutherford,  was  one  John  Welch,  one  of  the  most 
reckless  and  daring  of  them  all.  One  day,  while 
they  were  engaged  in  the  destruction  of  an  Indian 
village,  amid  the  blaze  of  a  consuming  wigwam,  lie 
heard  the  plaintive  cries  of  a  child.  He  rushed  im- 
petuously forward  among  the  crackling  flames,  and 
speedily  returned,  bearing  in  his  arms  a  little  boy, 
about  two  years  of  age,  somewhat  scorched  it  was 
true,  but,  to  all  appearance,  not  materially  injured. — 
The  child  threw  his  arms  fondly  around  the  neck  of 


EONEGUSKI.  43 

his  deliverer,  kissed  him,  and  manifested  in  every  way 
of  which  he  was  capable,  the  liveliest  gratitude.  k  If  it 
is  an  Indian,'  said  Welch,  '  I'll  take  care  of  it;'  and  his 
rugged  heart  was  evidently  waked  up  to  new  feelings, 
by  the  innocent  fondness  of  the  child.  The  long  straight 
black  hair,  the  eyes,  and  the  place  where  it  was  found, 
all  indicated  for  it  an  Indian  descent ;  but  a  spriteliness 
and  delicacy  of  feature,  and  fairness  of  complexion, 
never  found  among  the  aboriginal  savages,  proclaimed 
a  decided  predominance  of  European  blood.  This, 
upon  closer  examination,  did  not  fail  to  strike  his  deli- 
verer, and  as  his  belief  in  the  preponderance  of  white 
blood  in  his  protege  increased,  so  did  the  feeling,  so 
nearly  allied  to  parental  affection,  towards  him.  In 
fine,  he  adopted  the  foundling,  and,  for  the  want  of  a 
name,  furnished  him  with  his  own,  and  shared  with 
him  his  couch  and  fare;  bearing  him  with  him  on  his 
return  to  the  settlements. 

"  The  army  had  on  its  march  homewards,  repassed 
the  Blue  Mountains,  and  was  making  its  way  across  the 
Brushy  Hills,  at  the  most  practicable  point.  It  had  halted 
near  the  summit  for  refreshment,  when  John  Welch  was 
told  that  one  of  the  Indian  prisoners  was  dying,  and 
wished  to  see  him,  and  also  desired  that  he  would  bring 
with  him  the  child  he  had  rescued  from  the  flames. 
Welch  immediately  obeyed  the  summons,  and  hasten- 
ing towards  the  front  of  the  encampment,  where  the 
prisoners  were,  found  an  aged  Indian  lying  upon  a 
blanket,  apparently  in  the  last  agony.  A  large  sword 
gash  in  his  side,  which  had  been  sewed  up,  but  from 
which  the  blood  continually  oozed,  was  the  obvious 
cause  of  his  present  condition,  and,  to  all  human  appear- 
ance, his  death  warrant.  Several  other  prisoners,  of 
both  sexes,  were  hovering  over  him,  with  apparent  soli- 
citude, and  it  was  evident  from  their  manner,  as  well  as 
from  his  own  costume  and  appearance,  that  he  was  their 
chief.  As  soon  as  the  child  saw  the  aged  warrior  he 
sprang  from  the  arms  of  Welch,  and  flew  towards  him, 
uttering  an  Indian  exclamation,  which  maybe  rendered 


44  EONEGUSKI. 

'papa;'  and  began  to  caress  him  fondly.  The  Indian, 
seemingly,  regardless  of  the  endearments  of  the  child, 
cast  his  languid  eye  upon  Welch,  and  addressed  him  in 
a  feeble  tone  of  voice.  '  Stranger,'  he  said,  '  thou  hast 
come  at  the  bidding  of  Toleniska,  and  it  is  well,  for  the 
voice  of  Toleniska  shall  be  heard  no  more;  he  has  hated 
the  white  man  with  a  hatred  which  has  never  slumbered, 
although  the  blood  of  the  white  man  has  mingled  its 
pale  stream  with  the  dark  current  which  rolls  through 
the  veins  of  Toleniska.  The  fields  where  I  have  lain 
in  ambush  on  his  steps,  are  thick  in  yonder  valley, 
whereon  I  now  look  proudly  down,  from  my  bed  of 
death.  Number  the  hairs  of  your  own  head,  and  then 
may  you  tell  the  scalps  which  Toleniska  has  borne 
away  from  your  nation.  But  you  came  not  to  hear  the 
death  song  of  Toleniska. — It  was  to  be  the  first  white 
man  to  whom  the  proud  heart  of  Toleniska  wTould  allow 
him  to  say,  '  I  thank  you.'  You  might  have  saved  my 
wigwam  from  destruction — you  might  have  rescued 
Toleniska  himself  from  the  grasp  of  the  tormentors, 
and  his  heart  would  have  been  firm  as  the  rock  upon 
this  mountain  side.  But  you  have  snatched  from  the 
flames  the  pale  blossom  of  his  love,  and  the  heart  of 
Toleniska  is  melted.  He  thought  that  his  darling  had 
perished  with  the  hundreds  of  brave  warriors  who  fell 
fighting  for  their  wives,  their  children,  and  the  graves 
of  their  fathers.  It  is  but  now  that  he  heard  that  the 
white  man  had  saved  him  at  the  hazard  of  his  own  life. 
Go  ! — cherish  the  being  thou  hast  saved,  and  the  Great 
Spirit  will  reward  thee.  Toleniska  is  hastening  to  join 
his  fathers  in  the  hunting  grounds  of  the  blessed.'  The 
Indian  drew  the  corner  of  his  blanket  over  his  face, 
and,  for  a  time,  all  was  stillness  around  him.  At  length 
one  ventured  to  remove  the  blanket — and  Toleniska  was 
no  more.  He  was  buried  by  the  direction  of  the  Gene- 
ral upon  the  side  of  the  trail  which  crosses  it  at  the  very 
top  of  the  mountain,  and  there  the  remains  of  his  grave 
are  yet  to  be  seen ;  from  whence  that  passage  over  the 
Brushy  Hills  is  called  the  Indian  Grave  Gap. 


EONEGUSKI.  45 

"  Upon  the  confines  of  what  was  then  the  white  set- 
tlement, General  Rutherford  erected  for  its  protection 
against  the  invasion  of  the  Indians,  a  fort,  which  was  call- 
ed Fort  Defiance."  (We  interrupt  for  a  moment  the 
story  of  Gideon,  to  inform  the  reader,  that  the  remains  of 
this  fort  are  yet  to  be  seen  in  Wilkes  County,  upon  the 
plantation  of  General  Lenoir,  a  time-worn  and  venerable 
remnant  of  the  brave  spirits  who  constituted  the  army 
of  General  Rutherford,  in  which  he  held  a  distinguish- 
ed rank.  The  fort  occupies  the  brow  of  a  hill,  over- 
looking, for  many  miles,  in  a  northwardly  and  east- 
wardly  direction,  the  valley  of  the  Yadkin  ;  and  behind, 
the  position  of  the  fort  in  every  other  direction,  stretches 
out  an  extensive  plain,  of  very  fertile  land,  so  as  to  leave 
no  elevation  in  its  vicinity  by  which  the  fort  itself  could 
be  commanded.  To  return  to  the  story  of  Gideon.) 
"  As  soon  as  Welch's  tour  of  duty  was  accomplished, 
he  settled  in  the  neighborhood  of  Fort  Defiance,  and 
shortly  after  wards  married,  but  as  they  were  not  bless- 
ed with  children  of  their  own,  all  that  store  of  parental 
love,  which  nature  has  so  kindly  provided  in  the  human 
heart,  was  expended  by  Welch  and  his  wife  upon  their 
orphan  charge.  Nor  was  their  kindness  illy  repaid, 
for  never  was  child  more  dutiful  or  affectionate  to  real 
parents  than  he  was  to  them,  nor  were  advantages  often 
more  diligently  improved  than  did  the  boy  those  afford- 
ed him. 

"  My  father  did  not  return  so  soon  as  Welch  from 
the  Indian  expedition ;  when  he  did,  however,  he  found 
that  my  grandfather  also  had  removed  into  the  vicinity 
of  Fort  Defiance.  Here  my  father  did  not  remain 
long,  until  he  courted  and  married  my  mother.  I  was 
born,  and,  in  process  of  time,  my  sister  .Atha.  A 
close  intimacy  existed  between  the  families  of  Welch 
and  my  father,  and  there  was  scarcely  a  day  that  some 
member  of  the  one  was  not  at  the  house  of  the  other, 
mingling  together  both  in  sports  and  labors.  Veiy 
soon  Atha,  although  several  years  younger  than  Welch, 
became  his  favorite  companion,  and  was  evidently  re- 


46  EONEGUSKI. 

garded  by  him  with  all  that  tender  solicitude  which 
would  have  well  become  an  elder  brother.  Her  little 
sorrows  it  was  his  highest  pleasure  to  allay,  as  well  as 
to  furnish  amusements  for  her  gayer  hours."  Gideon 
paused. — "  There  is  a  melancholy  pleasure  in  looking 
back  upon  those  days,"  he  said,  "and  even  now  my 
mind  is  so  occupied  with  the  thoughts  which  crowd  in 
upon  it,  that  I  feel  inclined  to  pause  in  my  story,  and 
indulge  myself  in  these  recollections.  Look,"  conti- 
nued he,  pointing  to  the  most  distant  spot  in  the  valley, 
of  which  they  commanded  an  extensive  view,  "  See 
how  beautiful  from  the  blue  mist  which  covers  it,  is  that 
spot  above  all  others  before  us  ;  perhaps  there  is  some- 
thing like  this  in  the  feeling  with  which  we  look  back 
upon  past  events — the  more  distant,  the  more  lovely 
and  interesting  do  they  appear  to  the  memory.  What- 
ever may  be  the  cause,  there  is  no  period  of  my  own 
existence,  of  which  the  retrospect  is  so  pleasant,  as  that 
in  which  some  few  prominent  facts  stand  forth  among 
the  dim  shadows  of  those  which  have  nearly  faded 
from  my  recollection. 

"  But  I  will  proceed: — 

"  Many  years  had  not  passed  away,  before,  to  persons 
of  the  habits  of  my  father,  the  neighborhood  of  Fort  De- 
fiance became  an  old  settlement.  Cottages  began  to 
gather  thickly  around  him,  and  the  range  ceased  to  be 
sufficiently  extensive  for  the  herds  of  cattle  which  claimed 
from  it  their  support.  About  this  time  the  Indian  boun- 
dary was  prescribed  by  an  act  of  the  Congress  of  the 
United  States,  and  my  father  found  that  the  red  men 
must  yield  these  hills  and  vallies  to  the  possession  of 
the  whites.  He  was  not  ignorant  of  the  advantages  of 
being  among  the  first  to  pasture  his  cattle  upon  a  range 
iresh  from  the  hands  of  nature,  and  he  accordingly 
moved  to  the  place  where  you  now  see  him.  The 
very  spot  where  his  improvements  are,  caught  his  eye, 
(at  a  time  when,  but  little  hope  remained  to  him  of  life, 
any  where,)  as  a  lovely  scene  of  retirement,  where, 
with  his  family  about  him,  a  herdsman  might  enjoy 


fiONEGtfSKt.  47 

every  comfort  the  world  could  afford.  Hither  he  was 
very  soon  followed  by  some  of  his  former  neighbors, 
and  among  others,  by  Welch. 

"  Whether  Welch  and  his  wife  were  at  all  influenced 
by  the  circumstance,  I  will  not  say,  but  I  have  under- 
stood, that  after  we  had  moved  away  from  Fort  Defi- 
ance, the  boy  John  lost  his  spirits,  and  became  pale  and 
sickly.  If  that  was  so  he  found  something  wonderfully 
restorative  in  the  waters  of  the  Homony,  for  I  remem- 
ber him  soon  after  his  arrival  here,  a  handsome  and 
hearty  boy.  His  disposition  was  in  perfect  accordance 
with  his  handsome  exterior,  but  all  his  endowments,  as 
well  of  mind  as  of  body,  seemed  to  be  valued  by  him 
only  so  far  as  they  might  commend  him  to  Atha  Ay- 
mor.  The  most  skilful  marksman  in  the  neighborhood, 
the  best  of  his  game  was  always  for  her,  and  when 
amongst  the  smooth  stones  of  the  Homony  he  would 
occasionally  seize  a  fine  mountain  trout,  it  was  much 
too  good  for  any  one  besides.  Is  it  to  be  wondered  at, 
if  attentions  so  kind  and  persevering,  made  an  impres- 
sion upon  her  who  was  their  object  % 

"  When  Atha  had  entered  her  fourteenth  year,  a 
change  of  manner,  which  had  been  almost  impercepti- 
bly stealing  on,  became  distinctly  marked  towards  John 
Welch.  There  was  no  longer  that  easy  freedom  here- 
tofore characterizing  their  intercourse,  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, she  was  embarrassed  and  shy  whenever  he 
came  into  her  presence,  and  blushed  and  turned  pale 
by  turns  when  his  name  was  mentioned.  Thus  mat- 
ters continued  for  some  years  longer,  and,  I  believe, 
no  one  irr  the  neighborhood  doubted  that  a  match  was 
one  day  to  take  place  between  them.  Welch  was  the 
reputed  only  child  of  his  parents,  and,  although  they 
could  not  boast  of  wealth,  their  circumstances  were  easy, 
and  his  Indian  tinge  was  scarcely  sufficient  to  have 
been  thought  of  by  the  most  scrupulous,  as  any  ob- 
jection. Indeed,  if  his  complexion  could  have  been 
changed  in  the  slightest  degree,  it  would  have  de- 
tracted from  his  comeliness.      Neither  my  father  nor 


48  EONEGUSKI. 

mother  took  any  notice  of  the  report  in  circulation, 
and  whether  they  ever  heard  it  I  know  not,  but  they 
said  nothing  about  it,  nor  was  any  effort  made  to  dimi- 
nish the  intercourse  between  the  families. 

"  Every  thing  appeared  to  be  going  on  smoothly  until 
&  few  months  since,  when  John  ventured  to  make  pro- 
posals to  my  father  for  marriage  with  my  sister.  As 
calm  as  you  see  my  father  in  common,  Eoneguski,  he  is 
terrible  when  roused.  You  are  no  stranger  to  the  fury 
of  the  hurricane — and  it  is  not  often,  but  I  have  now 
and  then,  seen  m}r  father  in  a  tempest  of  passion,  when 
I  would  rather  encounter  a  hurricane  than  meet  him. 
One  of  those  occasions  was  when  Welch  first  dared  to 
avow  to  him  his  love  for  my  sister.  It  seemed  to  me  as 
if  my  father  towered  a  foot  or  two  above  his  ordinary 
height, — his  teeth  and  fists  clenched  forcibly — his  eyes 
seemed  ready  to  burst  from  their  sockets,  and,  for  an  in- 
stant, rested  wildly  upon  his  rifle,  which  lay  quietly 
upon  the  crotchets  above  the  door.  '  And  is  it  come 
to  this,'  said  he,  when  he  could  find  utterance,  4  that  I 
am  to  see  my  blood  mingled  with  that  of  a  Cherokee 

Indian  1     D n  seize  me  if  I  would  not  sooner  tear 

out  your  savage  heart  with  my  own  hands — Talk  to  me 
of  love. — Begone!  this  instant,  or  by  my  soul  it  will  be 
but  adding  another  to  the  miserable  miscreants  of  your 
tribe  which  these  hands  have  slaughtered!  Begone, 
I  say,  and  if  ever  you  suffer  me  to  lay  eyes  on  you 
again,  wo  be  to  your  life.'  The  tumult  attracted  us 
all  to  the  place,  but  we  knew  too  well  the  mood  of  the 
man  with  whom  we  had  to  do,  to  venture  the  breathing 
a  word  in  behalf  of  him  whom  we  all  loved,  and  now 
so  sincerely  pitied.  As  soon  as  he  had  collected  him- 
self from  the  first  shock  of  his  surprise,  Welch  left  the 
house,  and  the  door  was  closed  forcibly  after  him  by  my 
father,  who  strode  up  and  down  like  a  lion.  The 
first  symptom  of  returning  composure  was  a  glance 
of  anxious  inquiry  towards  the  bed,  where  Atha  had 
thrown  herself  in  an  agony  of  emotion.  Next,  his 
motions  became  less  rapid,  and,  finally,  settled  down 


EONEOUSKI.  49 

into  a  pretty  quiet  walk,  until  stopping  near  the  bed 
where  Atha  was  almost  unconsciously  undergoing  the 
solicitous  efforts  of  my  mother  to  soothe  her,  'Atha,' 
said  he,  '  you  need  fear  nothing  from  my  violence  to 
John  Welch,'  and  left  the  house. 

"  He  was  a  good  while  absent,  and  when  he  re- 
turned, was  apparently  composed,  but  still  silent  and 
thoughtful,  and  every  now  and  then  I  perceived  an 
expression  of  anguish  pass  across  his  countenance, 
which  made  me  shudder;  for,  in  spite  of  myself,  the 
thought  was  forced  upon  my  mind,  that  he  had  com- 
mitted some  violence  upon  John  Welch,  if  he  had  not 
actually  put  him  to  death.  But  mine,  I  believe,  was  the 
only  brain  into  which  the  dark  suspicion  ever  came. 
In  a  day  or  two  my  father  began  to  speak  to  his  family 
in  his  wonted  manner,  and  there  was  even  an  increased 
tenderness  in  his  tone  of  voice  whenever  he  addressed 
Atha.  Shortly  afterwards  we  learned  that  the  very  next 
morning  after  his  interview  with  my  father  Welch 
had  taken  a  formal  leave  of  his  parents,  and  gone — no 
one  knew  whither.  Since  then  my  sister  Atha  has 
been  like  a  drooping  flower,  and,  though  Welch's  name 
has  been  but  seldom  mentioned  among  us,  it  is  evident 
that  my  father's  feelings  have  undergone  a  great  change 
towards  him ;  and  on  the  very  night  on  which  you  paid 
us  your  first  visit,  he  had  gone  so  far  as  to  tell  Atha, 
that  if  John  Welch  ever  returned,  of  which  he  seemed 
to  have  great  hopes,  she  might  become  his  wife. 

"  I  believe  my  part  of  our  compact  is  now  fulfilled," 
said  Gideon,  throwing  himself  in  his  turn  into  the  atti- 
tude of  a  listener. 


VOL,  I. 5. 


50  EONEGUSKI. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Oh  !  hast  thou,  Christian  Chief,  forgot  the  morn 
When  I  with  thee  the  cup  of  peace  did  share  ; 
Then  stately  was  this  head,  and  dark  this  hair 
That  now  is  white  as  Apalachia's  snows. 

Campbell. 

It  were  impossible  to  describe  the  emotions  of  the 
savage  during  the  recital  of  Gideon,  many  parts  of 
which  were  not  so  new  to  him  as  the  speaker  supposed. 
But  he  forbore  to  interrupt  the  thread  of  the  narrative 
by  any  exclamation  or  inquiry,  nor  did  he  allow  his 
countenance  to  betray  aught  of  what  was  passing  with- 
in him.  For  some  time  after  the  narrator  had  ceased, 
he  remained  silent;  perhaps  pondering  what  he  had 
heard,  or,  probably,  recollecting  himself  for  the  per- 
formance of  his  own  task.  At  length,  perceiving  in 
his  companion  some  marks  of  impatience,  he  pro- 
ceeded : — 

EONEGUSKl's    STORY. 

"  I  remember,  although  more  than  two  hundred  and 
fifty  moons  have  since  passed  away,  when  the  father  of 
Gideon  came  to  Eonee,  the  captive  of  mine."  A  scowl 
of  displeasure  began  to  gather  upon  the  countenance  of 
Gideon.  "  Let  not  the  storm  gather  on  thy  brow,"  said 
Eoneguski,  "  but  listen  to  my  story,  as  I  have  done  to 
thine.  The  people  cried  aloud  for  vengeance,  and 
demanded  that  the  prisoner  should  be  given  to  the  tor- 
mentors. Their  hearts  were  furious  for  the  wigwams 
which  the  fire  had  devoured — for  the  women  and  chil- 
dren whose  blood  had  been  drank  by  the  long  knives  of 
the  white  men — and  for  their  young  men  and  warriors 
whose  bones  lay  in  heaps  on  the  Tuckasege,  at  Bay's 


EONEGUSKI.  51 

Town.  *  Give  us,'  said  they,  '  give  us  up  the  *Skiagusta 
of  the  white  men,  that  we  may  spill  his  blood,  and  give 
his  body  to  the  flames :  and  the  spirits  of  our  slaugh- 
tered kinsmen  shall  be  pacified.' 

"  I  crept  to  the  knees  of  my  father,  and  he  bent  his 
ear  to  the  voice  of  his  son : — '  Let  the  stranger  go,'  I 
said, — '  Give  him  not  up  to  the  fury  of  the  tormentors.' 

" '  Foolish  boy,'  said  Eonah,  '  would  you  have  me 
give  freedom  to  the  enemy  whom  the  Great  Spirit  has 
delivered  into  my  hands  V 

" '  The  Great  Spirit  hath  delivered  him  into  your 
hands,  my  father,'  I  said,  '  but  it  is  that  you  may  make 
of  him  an  offering  of  peace  for  your  tribe.  The  fOe- 
woehee  are  few,  and  scattered  like  the  leaves  on  yon 
wide  spreading  tree,  when  they  have  been  touched  by  the 
early  frost,  and  shaken  by  the  blasts  of  autumn.  The 
white  men  are  as  countless  as  the  leaves  on  every  tree 
on  the  Cowee  Mountain.  Why  should  the  Oewoehee 
war  with  them,  until  they  themselves  have  altogether 
perished  from  the  earth,  like  the  leaves  in  winter  ?  Let 
the  Skiagusta  go,  and  he  shall  speak  words  of  peace  to 
his  people  for  the  Oewoehee.' 

"  •  Hush !'  said  the  chief  of  Eonee. 

"  •  Has  Eoneguski  ever  before  asked  anything  of  his 
father  V  I  said. 

"  '  No  !'    replied  the  chief. 

•"And  shall  his  first  request  be  denied  him?'  If 
the  white  man  perishes,  let  the  chief  of  Eonee  prepare 
to  heap  the  stones  on  the  body  of  his  son.' 

"  I  saw  that  Eoneguski  had  triumphed  over  the 
hitherto  unconquered  spirit  of  his  father. — Eonah  bade 
the  people  go,  and  when  the  next  sun  should  rise  he 
would  hearken  to  them  again. 

"  When  we  three  were  left  alone  in  the  wigwam, 

*  Skiagusta  is  a  common  Indian  expression  for  any  sort 
of  a  great  man. 

tOewoehee,  title  borne  by  the  Cherokee  tribe  amongst  them- 
selves. 


52  EONEGUSKI. 

•  Stranger,'  said  the  chief,  '  the  papoos  has  saved  the 
life  of  the  white  Skiagusta.  Eonah  has  turned  a 
deaf  ear  to  the  voice  of  his  people,  requiring  thee 
to  be  given  up  to  the  tormentors,  and  hath  listened 
to  his  son,  who  demands  that  you  may  be  allowed  to 
depart  to  your  own  people.  Go !  and  when  you  see 
the  war  cloud  gathering  in  fury  against  the  red  men, 
remember  that  the  Cherokee  did  not  strike  when  he 
might.' 

"'  The  white  man  is  not  ungrateful,'  said  your  father, 
'  and  in  him  from  henceforth  the  red  man  will  find  a 
friend.  Tell  the  Cherokee,  when  he  wanders  from  his 
tribe,  across  the  Blue  Mountains,  to  inquire  for  Robert 
Aymor.  And  may  the  Great  Spirit  bless  the  chief  and 
his  son,  who  have  looked  in  pity  on  their  white  brother, 
for  we  are  all  His  children.  The  heart  of  the  white 
mans  mother  will  rejoice  when  she  looks  upon  her  son, 
and  in  gratitude  to  his  deliverers,  will  think  no  more  of 
the  blood  of  her  race  which  has  been  shed  by  their  tribe, 
and  her  spirit  will  bless  the  Cherokee  people.' 

"  '  Here  is  your  shot-pouch  and  rifle,'  said  Eonah, 
'  the  white  man  shall  not  go  away  defenceless.  The 
way  is  long  to  the  settlements,  and  he  would  perish 
without  a  rifle  to  provide  him  with  game,  for  he  dare 
not  seek  for  food  in  the  wigwams  of  the  Oewoehee.' 

" '  The  rifle  is  yours,'  said  Aymor,  '  it  is  yours  by 
right  of  conquest' 

"  '  I  know  it  is  mine,'  said  my  father,  '  but  the  Eonee 
chief  has  given  the  white  man  his  life ;  and  is  the  white 
man  too  proud  to  accept  a  gift  from  one  of  whom  he 
has  not  been  ashamed  to  accept  his  life  V 

" '  God  forbid,'  said  Aymor,  '  I  do  not  disdain  your 
gifts,  but  I  would  that  my  red  brother  should  keep  them 
in  memory  of  him  who  is  so  largely  his  debtor,  and  as 
a  token  by  which  the  Eonee  chief,  should  he  ever  re- 
quire them,  either  for  himself  or  another,  may  demand 
the  services  of  Robert  Aymor,  or  any  of  his  blood,  even 
at  the  hazard  of  life.' 


EONEGUSKI.  53 

" '  It  shall  be  as  you  say,'  replied  the  chief  of  Eonee, 
•  but  my  white  brother  must  take  in  their  stead  the  rifle 
and  shot-pouch  of  Eonah.1 

"  '  You  shall  now  see,'  said  Aymor,  '  that  the  white 
man  disdains  not  the  gift  of  his  red  brother.  I  accept 
it  joyfully,  and  pledge  myself  that  arms  hitherto  so 
gallantly  borne  by  Eonah,  shall  not  be  disgraced  in  the 
hand  of  his  pale  brother.' 

"  '  Go  !'  said  my  father,  '  it  is  enough.' 

" '  Many  hundred  moons  ago,'  said  Aymor.  '  my 
fathers  came  across  the  great  blue  waters.  Before 
leaving  his  native  land  it  was  the  fortune  of  one  whose 
blood  is  in  my  veins,  to  perform  an  action  which  distin- 
guished him  in  the  eyes  of  a  great  lord,  whom  he 
served,  and  for  which  it  was  his  pleasure  to  give  him  a 
chain  of  silver.  In  all  the  changes  of  fortune  the  pride 
of  the  family  has  preserved  this  chain,  and  it  fell  at  last 
into  the  hands  of  my  father,  who  wore  it  appended  to 
an  old  family  watch.  When  I  set  out  on  this  expedition, 
1  Robert,'  said  my  father,  '  you  are  now  going  to  tread 
the  path  of  honor,  as  many  of  your  fathers  have  done 
before  you.  Should  it  be  your  lot,  my  gallant  boy, 
to  fall  on  the  battle  field,  let  this  watch  and  chain 
be  found  on  your  person,  that  it  may  be  seen  it  is  no 
common  clown  who  lies  on  the  bed  of  glory.'  When 
you  made  me  a  prisoner,  Eonah,  you  deprived  me  of 
the  watch,  but  to  guard  against  accidents,  I  had  separa- 
ted the  chain  from  it,  and  concealed  it  so  effectually  that 
insensible  as  I  was  at  the  time,  you  did  not  find  it.  I 
do  not  mention  this  to  reproach  you  for  taking  the 
watch ; — it  is  yours,  and  you  are  welcome  to  it,  among 
the  other  remembrances  of  your  white  brother :  but  the 
chain  is  mine,  and  I  may  bestow  it  as  I  choose.  It 
cannot  leave  the  family  in  whose  possession  it  has  been 
for  so  many  generations,  more  worthily  than  as  an  of- 
fering of  gratitude  to  the  noble  boy,  whom  I  shall  ever 
remember  as  the  preserver  of  my  life.'  So  saying,  he 
threw  the  chain  over  my  neck,  where  it  now  hangs  as 
you  see."      As  he  uttered  this,  Eoneguski  opened  his 


54  EONEGUSKI. 

hunting  shirt,  with  an  air  of  satisfaction,  and  disclosed 
to  Gideon  the  trophy  of  his  youthful  humanity. 

"  My  father,"  continued  Eoneguski,  "  was  both  sur- 
prised and  confused.  '  The  watch  is  here,'  he  said,  'it 
is  yours, — say  not  a  word,  for  it  will  make  the  father  of 
my  white  brother  sad,  and  he  will  think  meanly  of 
Eonah,  when  he  hears  that  he  has  robbed  his  son  of 
his  watch.  Here  take  it — Now  go — There  is  peace 
between  us.' 

"  '  He  must  not  go,'  I  said,  '  until  the  dark  shadow 
comes  down  upon  the  earth,  or  how  shall  he  escape  the 
hands  of  his  enemies?' 

"  '  Hath  not  Eonah  bid  him  go  V  said  the  chief,  '  and 
who  shall  dare  to  gainsay  the  words  of  Eonah.' 

"  '  Pardon  me,  my  father,'  I  said,  '  but  you  know 
that  the  Oewoehee  do  not  always  hearken  to  the  voice 
of  their  chief,  and  they  are  now  thirsty  for  vengeance. 
Let  the  Skiagusta  remain  quiet  in  the  wigwam  until  the 
shadows  come  down  from  the  Nantahala  Mountains, 
and  then  may  he  escape  in  safety.' 

"  '  Be  it  as  you  will,'  said  Eonah. 

"  I  bade  the  white  man  lie  down  in  the  corner  of  the 
wigwam,  and  covered  him  with  the  skin  of  a  buffaloe. 
'  Sleep,'  said  I,  '  for  to  night  the  Skiagusta  must  tra- 
vel for  his  life.  When  all  is  still  in  Eonee,  and  the  red 
men  sleep  in  quiet,  I  will  come,  and  you  shall  fly  away, 
like  a  bird  escaping  from  the  snare.' 

"Scarcely  had  I  left  speaking  with  the  white  man, 
when  the  people  once  more  gathered  in  a  crowd,  and 
demanded  that  he  should  be  given  up  to  them. 

"  '  It  shall  not  be,'  said  my  father,  '  Eonah  hath  said 
that  the  white  man  shall  live.' 

'"We  will  not  listen  to  the  voice  of  Eonah,'  said  one 
amongst  the  crowd,  '  the  white  man  shall  die.' 

" '  Chuheluh  is  right,'  said  a  hundred  voices,  *  we 
will  not  listen  to  the  voice  of  Eonah — the  white  man 
shall  die.' 

"  Chuheluh  had  always  aspired  to  rival  Eonah  with 
the  people,  and  become  the  chief  of  Eonee.     But  he 


EONEGUSKI.  55 

had  never  been  able  to  win  the  hearts  of  the  people 
from  their  chief.  Many  times  was  it  in  the  power  of 
Eonah  to  destroy  Chuheluh,  (the  Fox,)  but  Eonah,  (the 
Bear,)  said  he  scorned  to  make  war  upon  the  Fox. 
But  this  did  not  prevent  Chuheluh  from  continuing  his 
efforts  to  stir  up  the  people;  and  it  was  he  who  now 
urged  them  to  come  back  and  insist  that  the  captive 
should  at  once  be  delivered  up  to  them. 

"  '  If  the  white  man  dies,'  replied  my  father,  '  Eonah 
dies  with  him.  Can  the  Fox  take  the  life  of  the 
Bear?' 

"  'The  Fox  loves  the  Bear  too  well,'  replied  the  cun- 
ning Chuheluh,  'to  take  away  his  life;  but  the  banks 
of  the  Tuckasege  are  smoking  with  the  blood  of  the 
Oewoehee,  and  the  spirits  of  our  slaughtered  warriors 
are  crying  for  vengeance.' 

" '  The  Great  Spirit  has  told  me,'  replied  Eonah, 
'  that  the  white  man  must  live.  You  say  well,  Chu- 
heluh, that  the  banks  of  the  Tuckasege  are  smoking 
with  the  blood  of  the  Oewoehee; — its  very  waves  are 
rolling  red  with  it  to  the  father  of  waters.  But  must 
the  blood  of  the  Oewoehee  continue  to  flow,  until  its 
fountains  are  dried  up  %  Must  the  war  cloud  continue 
to  pour  down  its  torrents,  until  they  sweep  us  away  from 
trie  earth  1  And  who  shall  turn  away  the  anger  of  the 
white  man  from  the  Oewoehee  ?  Eonah  has  sent  the 
white  Skiagusta  to  speak  words  of  peace  to  his  peo- 
ple.' 

" '  The  tongue  of  Eonah  is  like  my  two  fingers,'  said 
Chuheluh,  extending  the  two  middle  ringers  of  his  right 
hand,  separated  as  far  as  possible. 

" '  The  Fox  is  ever  a  liar,'  said  Eonah. 

"  '  I  will  see,'  said  Chuheluh,  'if  the  Fox  is  more 
given  to  falsehood  than  the  Bear;'  and  advanced  to- 
wards the  door  of  the  wigwam,  with  the  purpose  of 
entering  to  search  for  the  stranger. 

"'Chuheluh  passes  not  the  threshold  of  Eonah  alive,' 
said  my  father,  sternly. 

" « It  is  well ;'    said  Chuheluh.     He  looked  behind 


56  EONEGUSKI. 

him,  and  perceived  that  his  followers,  who  had  been 
gradually  dropping  away  during  the  conversation,  were 
reduced  to  a  very  small  number.  Soon  these  also  de- 
parted, and  were  quickly  followed  by  himself. 

"  All  was  now  quiet  in  Eonee,  and,  in  a  few  hours, 
Aymor,  hidden  by  the  shadow  of  the  night,  had  left  the 
wigwam  of  Eonah." 

The  Indian  paused  in  his  story,  and  casting  his  eye 
upon  the  face  of  Gideon,  endeavored  to  read  in  it  the 
impression  made  upon  his  mind  by  the  incidents  reci- 
ted. Perhaps  even  a  bosom  like  his  was  not  exempt 
from  that  amiable  weakness  which  is  gratified  by  the 
approbation  of  our  fellow-men;  and  counts  on  meeting 
it  as  a  matter  of  course,  whenever  conscience  whis- 
pers, "  You  have  done  well."  If  so,  he  doubtless  ex- 
pected to  read,  in  the  countenance  of  his  companion, 
some  lively  indication  of  gratitude  towards  the  preser- 
ver of  his  father.  Possibly  his  expectations  may  have 
gone  so  far  as  even  to  have  prepared  him  for  some  pas- 
sionate expression  of  grateful  feeling  on  the  part  of  his 
guest,  whose  race  he  knew  possessed  not  that  philosophic 
apathy  of  manner  which  marked  his  own.  It  may  be, 
that  his  own  feelings  were  deeply  stirred  by  a  recur- 
rence to  these  interesting  passages  of  his  early  life. 
But  whatever  may  have  been  his  reason,  the  Indian 
paused — nor  was  the  silence  interrupted  by  any  remark 
from  his  auditor, 


:oneguski.  57 


CHAPTER  VI. 

And  hast  thou  then  forgot  ?  he  cried,  forlorn, 
And  ey'd  the  group  with  half  indignant  air. 

Campbell. 

The  dark  eye  of  the  Indian  glided  from  the  face  of 
Gideon,  and  gathering  his  blanket  about  him  in  closer 
folds,  he  heaved  a  sigh,  and  proceeded — 

"  Time  passed  away,  and  we  occasionally  heard  of 
Aymor,  as  one  in  whom  the  Cherokee  always  found  a 
friend,  but  nothing  occurred  to  bring  him  and  either 
Eonah  or  his  son  together.  At  length  the  Indian  boy 
became  a  young  man,  and  was  allowed  to  mingle 
among  the  men  of  his  tribe.  He  chased  the  deer,  the 
elk,  the  buffaloe,  and  the  bear,  and  hunted  his  game 
from  the  White  Mountains,  where  the  sun  sinks  to  rest 
in  the  evening,  to  the  Blue  Mountains  which  feel  the 
first  of  his  rising  beams  ; — from  the  Unaca  Mountains 
from  whence  the  cold  blasts  sweep  down  in  winter,  to 
the  warm  banks  of  the  Chatugaja  where  the  song  of 
the  bird  tells  earliest  of  summer.  As  you  pass  from 
Eonee  to  the  Chatugaja,  Sugar  Town  and  Tesumtoe 
are  on  your  path.  At  both  these  places  would  Eone- 
guski  sometimes  linger,  and  mingle  in  the  dance  with 
their  young  men  and  maidens.  You  will  not  wonder 
to  hear  that  the  daughters  of  the  Oewoehee  are  lovely 
in  the  eyes  of  Eoneguski — lovelier  by  far  than  the  fair- 
est daughters  of  the  white  man."  Gideon  smiled. 
"  Nay,"  said  Eoneguski,  "it  is  so;  but  amongst  them 
all  he  has  seen  none  to  match  the  Little  Deer  of  Tesum- 
toe. She  is  the  light  of  the  eyes — the  star  of  the  hopes 
of  Eoneguski.  Not  a  moon  has  passed  away  until 
now,  since  he  first  beheld  her,  that  he  has  not  flown 
upon  the  wings  of  Love  from  Eonee  to  Tesumtoe,  to 


58  EONEGUSKI. 

listen  to  the  music  of  her  voice,  and  look  upon  her 
beauty.  The  best  of  his  venison  and  the  choicest  of 
his  furs  and  buffaloe  skins,  have  been  laid  at  her  feet; — 
nor  hath  the  Little  Deer  refused  the  presents  of  Eone- 
guski.  A  few  moons  more  and  he  will  give  her  venison, 
and  she  will  give  him  bread,  and  he  will  lead  her  to  his 
wigwam,  and  thus,  according  to  the  customs  of  our  peo- 
ple, she  will  become  his  wife.  Then  will  the  heart  of 
Eoneguski  rejoice,  and  Gideon  shall  be  there  to  share 
the  joy  of  his  friend." 

The  ordinary  quiet  of  the  Indian's  features  was  bro- 
ken by  a  smile,  expressive  of  the  most  pleasurable  anti- 
cipations, but  it  was  evanescent  as  those  joys  are  wont  to 
be  which  stir  the  smiles  of  mortals,  and  he  continued — 

41  One  day  as  I  was  returning  to  Eonee  from  a  visit 
to  Tesumtoe,  I  arrived  at  Sugar  Town,  and  saw  a 
crowd  of  people  gathered  thick  together,  as  you  have 
seen  the  buzzards  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening  upon 
the  branches  of  a  dead  tree ;  and,  like  them,  the  people 
were  still  pouring  in  from  every  direction.  I  made  my 
way  towards  the  groupe  of  persons,  and  all  seemed  to 
give  way  in  consternation  before  me,  as  though  I  had 
been  some  evil  spirit.  It  was  in  vain  that  I  called  to 
them,  and  begged  to  know  the  cause  of  the  tumult.  The 
more  I  called,  the  more  alarmed  the  people  became,  and 
the  more  rapidly  did  they  flee  before  me.  When  at 
length  I  reached  the  place  where  the  crowd  had  been 
the  thickest,  no  one  remained  but  a  single  squaw,  seated 
on  the  ground,  and  a  man  lying  with  his  head  in  her 
lap,  whose  spirit  appeared  to  be  passing  away.  He  was 
speechless,  and  she  was  wiping  away,  with  a  piece 
of  coarse  cloth,  the  bloody  froth  continually  oozing 
from  between  his  lips.  I  now  saw  that  his  head  was 
mashed  terribly,  and  a  bloody  war-club  lying  near  him, 
was  evidently  the  instrument  with  which  it  had  been 
done.  I  recognised  in  the  dying  man  the  Leech,  one  of 
the  people  of  Eonee,  and  of  my  own  blood.    - 

"  '  Whose  hand  is  red  with  this  deed  V   1  inquired. 

" '  The  hand  of  John  Welch,'  replied  the  woman. 


EONEGUSKI.  59 

" 4  Where  is  the  murderer  V  I  asked. 

'* ■  He  has  returned  to  the  white  settlements ;'  was 
her  reply. 

"By  this  time  the  Leech  had  ceased  to  breathe, 

"  '  Let  him  be  buried,'  I  said,  '  as  a  brave  man  should, 
or  the  people  of  Eonee  will  lay  the  wigwams  of  Sugar 
Town  in  ashes.  I  fly  on  the  wings  of  vengeance  to 
overtake  the  murderer.'  " 

We  must  interrupt  the  story,  (that  the  reader  may  the 
better  understand  it,)  to  explain  a  law,  or  rather  custom, 
of  the  Oewoehee.  When  one  Indian  kills  another,  if 
they  belong  to  the  same  town,  it  is  the  right  of  every 
member  of  the  same  family  with  the  deceased,  unless  the 
killing  is  altogether  accidental,  to  pursue  the  murderer 
to  death,  and  the  whole  family  is  disgraced  if  no  member 
of  it  avenges  the  blood  of  his  fallen  brother.  As  long 
as  the  murderer  himself  can  be  reached,  it  is  supposed 
that  he  will  be  the  victim  most  acceptable  to  the  spirit 
of  the  deceased ;  and  therefore  he  is  preferred,  and  pub- 
lic opinion  requires  that  he  should  be  selected.  If, 
however,  he  cannot  be  had,  it  is  no  uncommon  thing 
for  some  other  member  of  the  same  family  to  be  sacri- 
ficed. The  same  law  and  custom,  which  allow  and 
require  the  relations  of  the  first  deceased  to  avenge  his 
death,  authorize  and  demand  of  the  relations  of  the 
victim  of  this  vengeance,  in  like  manner,  to  seek  satis- 
faction, and  so  on  forever,  until  so  much  blood  has  been 
spilt  that  the  chiefs  and  people  are  induced  to  interfere 
and  prohibit  the  farther  continuance  of  the  fued.  The 
same  law  and  custom  which  obtain  between  families  of 
the  same  town,  obtain  also  between  different  towns, 
making  the  right  and  duty  of  revenge  coextensive  with 
the  township  itself,  although  the  claims  of  each  indivi- 
dual to  become  the  avenger,  are  not  equal ;  but  right 
is  reserved  in  regular  gradation  for  the  nearest  rela- 
tions or  most  dignified  persons.  It  was  for  this  reason, 
when  the  people  of  Sugar  Town  recognised  in  Eone- 
guski  an  Eonee,  that,  not  knowing  with  what  zeal  and 
violence  he  might  urge  his  right  of  vengeance  for  his 


60  EONEGUSKI. 

slaughtered  kinsman,  or  whom  he  might  choose  for  his 
victim,  they  prudently  fled  from  him. 

"  Every  Cherokee  honors  and  respects  the  laws  and 
customs  of  his  people,  and  is  bound  to  comply  with 
them,"  continued  Eoneguski.  "As  almost  an  eye  wit- 
ness of  the  transaction,  as  a  relation  of  the  deceased, 
and,  above  all,  as  the  son  of  the  chief,  no  one  was  so 
much  bound  as  myself  to  avenge  the  blood  of  the 
Leech,  upon  his  murderer.  I  therefore  determined  to 
pursue  him,  leaving  to  the  people  of  Sugar  Town,  under 
the  threatened  vengeance  of  the  Eonee,  to  give  to  my 
kinsman  the  burial  of  a  brave  man.  Never  before  had 
Eoneguski  thirsted  for  blood.  But  he  knew  that  Welch 
had  been  brought  up  in  the  white  settlements,  and  that 
but  little  of  the  red  man's  blood  warmed  his  heart. 
1  He  has  risen  upon  the  Leech,'  something  whispered  in 
my  ear,  •  because  of  the  ancient  grudge  of  the  white 
man  against  the  red,  and,  like  an  evil  spirit,  has  stirred 
anew  the  half  forgotten  strife  between  the  people  of 
Eonee  and  Sugar  Town.' 

"Many  moons  ago  Cheasquah,  (or  the  Bird,)  one  of 
the  people  of  Sugar  Town,  and  the  Leech  drank  together, 
until  the  Leech  grew  drunk  and  angry,  and  took  away 
the  life  of  the  Bird.  For  a  long  time  the  people  of 
Sugar  Town  pursued  the  Leech,  and  thirsted  for  re- 
venge— at  length  the  spirit  of  vengeance  slumbered, 
and  they  suffered  him  to  come  quietly  home,  and  we  all 
thought  that  the  tomahawk  was  buried.  It  was  after 
this  time  that  Welch  left  the  stream  of  the  Homony 
and  came  into  the  Indian  country,  and  talked  of  his 
Cherokee  blood — and  said  that  he  had  left  forever 
the  house  of  the  white  man,  to  spread  his  blanket  in 
the  wigwam  of  the  red.  He  knew  not  which  of  the 
many  families  of  the  Cherokees  had  poured  into  his 
heart  the  drop  of  red  blood ;  but  he  joined  himself  to  the 
people  of  Sugar  Town,  and  they  received  him  among 
them  as  a  scion  of  their  stock,  and  he  became  the  son 
of  their  chief  Santuchee.  He  mingled  with  the  Eonee, 
and  was  not  a  stranger  to  Eoneguski.      He  sometimes 


EONEGUSKI.  61 

spoke  of  the  stream  and  mountains  of  the  Homony, 
with  a  sigh,  while  an  expression  of  melancholy  delight 
sat  upon  his  countenance :  and  I  knew  that  his  heart 
was  beside  its  waters,  and  that  to  them  he  would  return 
whenever  some  cause  of  temporary  exile  should  have 
passed  away.  When  he  fled  from  the  smoking  blood 
of  the  Leech,  thither  I  was  certain  he  would  be  drawn 
by  a  power  he  could  no  more  resist  than  could  a 
feather  from  the  eagle's  wing  the  impulse  of  the  storm. 
Obedient  to  the  customs  of  my  people,  thither  I  de- 
termined to  pursue  his  steps,  and  while  he  fancied 
himself  secure  from  the  red  man's  vengeance,  over- 
take him  with  slow,  though  it  might  be,  but  the  certain 
advance  of  fate. 

"  My  path  from  Sugar  Town  to  Homony  lay  past 
Eonee,  and  there  I  stopped  for  a  night  to  lay  open  my 
heart  to  Eonah,  and  consult  with  him — for  words  of 
wisdom  fall  from  the  lips  of  age. 

"  Eonah  gave  his  blessing  to  his  son,  and  called 
upon  the  Great  Spirit  that  he  might  return  with  his 
hand  red  with  the  blood  of  the  Leech.  *  The  dwel- 
ling of  the  white  man,  Eoneguski,'  he  said,  *  whom 
you  saved  from  the  tormentors,  is  where  he  can  hear 
the  soft  murmurs  of  the  Homony  when  it  sparkles 
in  the  sun  of  summer,  and  the  loud  dash  of  its  cata- 
racts when  it  pours  them  down  swollen  with  the  floods 
of  winter.  If  difficulties  should  beset  your  path — 
should  winter  come  upon  you  with  unwonted  fierce- 
ness, or  sickness  take  away  the  strength  of  the  young 
warrior,  call  upon  my  pale  brother  to  redeem  his  pledge. 
Take  with  you  his  own  rifle  and  shot-pouch,  and  let 
him  look  upon  them,  and  the  chain  of  white  metal, 
which  he  cast  about  your  neck,  and  we  shall  see 
whether  any  thing  but  falsehood  is  to  be  found  amongst 
the  pale  faces.  But  try  not  the  strength  of  your 
staff,  my  son,  while  your  own  limbs  are  able  to  sup- 
port you — bring  not  old  things  to  remembrance,  unless 
necessity  should  press  you — and,  above  all,  tell  not  the 
pale  face  of  his  debt  of  gratitude,  while  there  remain  to 

VOL.  I. — 6. 


62  EONEGUSKI. 

you  any  other  means  of  safety.  But  should  his  keen 
grey  eye,  (for  Eonah  has  not  forgotten  his  eagle  glance,) 
find  in  thy  lineaments  any  record  by  which  his  youthful 
benefactor  may  be  remembered,  or  any  resemblance  to 
the  manly  person  of  Eonah,  return  with  thy  whole  heart 
his  friendly  greeting,  and  tell  him  that  Eonah  yet  lives ; 
and  although  the  Nantahala  Mountains  are  not  more 
thickly  covered  with  the  snows  of  winter,  than  are  his 
locks  with  the  frosts  of  time,  and  although  his  limbs 
tremble  with  the  palsy  of  age,  he  yet  hopes  to  live 
many  moons,  and  once  more  look  his  pale  brother  in 
the  face.' 

"  I  saw  that  the  heart  of  Eonah  was  moved  at  parting 
with  his  son,  and  that  a  voice  whispered  words  of  doubt 
and  unwonted  apprehension.  But  no  tear  gathered  in 
his  eye,  nor  did  his  lip  tremble,  when  he  said  to  me — 
Go! 

"  I  was  no  stranger  to  the  path  which  lay  before  me, 
for  often  had  I  trodden  it  in  my  hunting  parties,  even  to 
the  ground  whereon  we  now  stand.  I  was  no  stran- 
ger to  the  inhabitants  of  your  father's  house.  Many 
are  the  times  when  both  you  and  your  father  have  pass- 
ed near  enough  to  Eoneguski  to  have  felt  his  breath — 
but  you  knew  not  that  he  was  there.  The  dwelling  of 
John  Welch  was  known  to  me,  and  many  are  the  times, 
before  he  had  stirred  the  vengeance  of  Eoneguski,  that 
he  could  have  torn  his  scalp  from  his  brain,  before  any 
white  man  had  dreamed  there  was  an  Indian  on  this 
side  of  the  Homony  Mountains.  It  was  not  long  after 
I  set  out,  before  I  discovered  that  I  was  on  the  trail 
of  my  purposed  victim.  You  have  seen,  Gideon,  how 
seldom  the  game  escapes  Eoneguski,  when  once  heis 
on  its  trail — but  even  his  sagacity  was  outdone  by  the 
ingenuity  of  Welch  plotting  for  his  life.  For  weeks  I 
pursued  him  from  cove  to  cove — from  mountain  top  to 
mountain  top — from  valley  to  valley — and  just  as  I  began 
to  find  his  foot  prints  yet  warm  upon  the  leaves,  they 
would  suddenly  disappear,  and  I  could  see  them  no  more 
for  a  great  distance.    At  last  I  thought  I  would  try  ano- 


EONEGUSKI.  63 

ther  scheme  of  the  hunter,  and,  chasing  him  no  longer, 
waylay  his  den,  and  take  him  as  he  came  in  unsuspi- 
cious of  danger.  I  was  stealing  cautiously  on  the 
way  to  my  appointed  stand,  when  the  elements  seemed 
to  ccmibine,  that  the  fearful  shadows  which  had  visited 
the  soul  of  Eonah,  should  be  realized  in  the  destruction 
of  his  son,  amid  his  blood-thirsty  wanderings.  The 
soul  of  Eoneguski  began  to  misgive  him,  and  he  almost 
fancied  he  could  hear  the  reproving  voice  of  the  Great 
Spirit  in  the  howlings  of  the  storm.  For  two  days  he 
pursued  his  journey,  and  not  the  track  of  a  beast  dis- 
turbed the  smooth  whiteness  of  the  snow — not  the  wing 
of  a  bird  could  be  seen  waving  darkly  amid  its  falling 
flakes.  With  limbs  benumbed  with  cold,  and  starving 
with  hunger,  he  reached  the  dwelling  of  your  father. — 
I  need  not  tell  Gideon  how  I  was  received.  Nothing 
waked  in  the  bosom  of  the  white  man  the  remembrance 
of  Eonah  or  of  his  son ; — even  his  own  rifle  and  shot- 
pouch  were  forgotten. 

"The  elements  were,  for  several  nights,  too  incle- 
ment, I  knew,  for  John  Welch  to  travel,  but  by  day  his 
pathway  to  the  house  of  him  he  called  father  was  not 
unwatched,  until  the  weather  became  moderate,  when 
both  night  and  day  witnessed  the  almost  sleepless 
watchings  of  Eoneguski.  But  even  then  his  spirit 
grew  dark  within  him,  at  the  thought  of  shedding  blood, 
and  especially  the  blood  of  the  unsuspecting  and  de- 
fenceless. His  watchings  at  length  became  less  strict, 
and  he  joined  Gideon  in  pursuing  the  game  far  from 
the  place  where  the  object  of  his  vengeance  must  pass. 
Once  or  twice  on  my  visits  to  the  house  of  your  father 
the  name  of  Welch  was  casually  mentioned,  and,  like 
the  flashes  of  lightning  in  a  distant  cloud,  such  as  some- 
times lingers  in  the  evening  sky  of  summer  when  no 
thunder  is  heard,  did  the  color  come  and  go  in  the  cheek 
of  your  sister ;  and  in  the  changing  color  of  that  cheek 
Eoneguski  read  a  tale  of  Love — and  he  sickened  at  the 
thought  that  he  might  bring  upon  that  cheek  the  steady 
paleness  of  despair,  and  cause  the  heart  of  the  maiden 


64  EONEGUSKI. 

to  break  with  anguish.  He  thought  of  the  Little  Deer 
at  Tesumtoe,  and  Eoneguski  became  a  woman. 

"  It  was  the  same  morning  on  which  the  cloud  passed 
between  Gideon  and  Eoneguski,  that,  as  I  was  waiting 
your  arrival,  something  stirred  among  the  bushes, 
and  I  prepared  my  rifle  to  bring  down  a  buck  before 
Gideon  should  appear,  when  in  full  view  burst  forth 
the  person  of  John  Welch — the  man  whose  steps  I 
had  been  so  long  pursuing,  and  for  whose  blood  I  had 
suffered  with  such  feverish  thirst.  The  rifle  was  raised — 
the  cock  was  drawn  back — and  the  finger  rested  on  the 
trigger — John  Welch  stood  still,  like  one  of  the  trees 
deep-rooted  beside  him,  conscious  that  the  never-failing 
aim  of  Eoneguski  was  upon  him. — At  that  moment 
the  howling  of  the  storm  sounded  in  my  ears,  as  when 
it  raged  along  the  sides  of  the  Homony — I  thought 
of  Robert  Aymor — of  Gideon — of  Atha — and  the  Lit- 
tle Deer — for  an  instant  a  dream  fell  upon  me — and 
when  I  awoke  Welch  had  disappeared. 

"  The  tale  of  Eoneguski  is  now  told.  To  the  Great 
Spirit  he  commits  the  destiny  of  John  Welch — his  errand 
here  is  over — to-morrow  he  bends  his  returning  foot- 
steps to  the  Indian  country,  to  the  embraces  of  his 
father,  and  to  warm  and  cheer  himself  in  the  smiles 
of  the  Little  Deer." 

Gideon  could  not  be  other  than  a  deeply  interested 
listener  to  the  recital  of  Eoneguski ;  all  the  seeming 
mysteries  in  whose  conduct  were  now  made  as  clear 
as  the  noon-day  sun.  His  feelings  were  a  good  deal 
affected,  and  he  remained  for  some  time  silent.  "  It  is 
long,"  continued  Eoneguski,  "  since  the  tomahawk  was 
buried  between  the  Cherokee  and  his  white  brothers. 
We  are  all  the  children  of  our  Great  Father  who  lives 
far  away  over  the  Blue  Mountains,  and  at  his  command 
the  Cherokee  has  stood  beside  his  white  brothers  when 
other  red  men  have  risen  against  them.  Has  not  Gi- 
deon heard  that  Eoneguski  has  always  urged  the  red 
men  to  be  submissive  to  their  Great  Father,  and  to 
stand  up  in  his  defence. 


EONEOUSKI.  65 

44  If  I  ever  did,  I  have  forgotten  it,"  replied  Gideon. 

44  Will  not  Gideon  go  with  Eoneguski  to  Eonee  1  It 
will  make  the  chilled  blood  of  Eonah  grow  warm 
again  to  see  the  son  of  his  friend.  You  will  find  game 
more  plenty  in  the  Indian  country  ; — and  there  the  sun 
is  wont  to  shine  more  brightly." 

14 1  should  like  to  go,"  said  Gideon,  44  if  the  consent 
of  my  father  can  be  obtained." 

44  When  he  shall  remember  in  Eoneguski  the  Indian 
boy,  he  cannot  refuse  his  request,  even  should  his  ear 
be  deaf  to  the  voice  of  his  son." 

Eoneguski  accompanied  Gideon  to  the  house  of  his 
father,  with  a  mind  greatly  relieved  by  their  mutual 
disclosures:  and,  as  is  usually  the  case  under  such 
circumstances,  they  were  each  better  pleased  with  the 
other  than  if  no  misunderstanding  had  ever  existed  be- 
tween them. 


66  EONEGUSKI. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Yes,  thou  recallest  my  pride  of  years,  for  then 
The  bow-string  of  my  spirit  was  not  slack  ; 
Nor  foeman  then,  nor  cougar's  crouch  I  fear'd, 
For  I  was  strong  as  mountain  cataract. 

Campbell. 

Every  cup  of  human  happiness  is,  by  the  decree  of 
Heaven,  drugged  with  some  bitter  ingredient;  and,  in 
the  most  sterling  ore  of  human  excellence,  will  be  found 
some  base  ingredients  of  unworthy  passion.  When  Eo- 
neguski  repaired  with  Gideon  to  the  house  of  his  father, 
his  character  and  person  were  of  course  placed  in  a  light 
altogether  new;  and  although  Aymor  was  gratified  at 
meeting  in  him  with  the  young  benefactor  of  his  early 
life,  yet  even  his  generous  nature  was  at  the  same  time 
sensible  of  an  embarrassment,  like  that  of  a  debtor  in 
the  presence  of  a  large  creditor,  whose  claim  he  is  con- 
scious is  more  than  sufficient  to  render  him  bankrupt. 
Yet  he  was  willing  to  make  what  payment  he  might, 
and  censured  unsparingly  his  own  blindness,  which  had 
not  detected  at  a  glance  one  whose  features  he  now  so 
distinctly  remembered,  and  who  bore  so  strong  a  resem- 
blance to  the  brave  Eonah.  The  rifle  and  shot-pouch 
were  not  so  much  to  be  wondered  at,  as  his  attention  had 
never  been  called  particularly  to  them,  and  as  for  the 
silver  chain,  he  had  never  seen  it,  Eoneguski  having 
always  worn  it  concealed  beneath  his  hunting  shirt. 
But  how  should  he  excuse  himself  for  not  being  struck 
with  the  name  of  Eoneguski?  It  was  true  he  had 
never  heard  it  mentioned  whilst  he  was  in  the  custody 
of  Eonah :  but  he  had  subsequently  heard  that  a  son  of 
that  chief  had  arisen  by  that  name,  greatly  distinguished 
as  an  advocate  for  peace  with  the  whites,  and  he  must 
naturally  have  conjectured  that  he  could  be  no  other 


EONEGUSKI.  67 

than  the  one  to  whom  he  was  himself  so  deeply  in- 
debted. He  could  only  say,  that  when  he  first  heard 
the  name  of  Eoneguski  mentioned  in  his  family,  as  that 
of  his  tawny  visiter,  it  was  after  curiosity  concerning 
him  had  subsided,  and  the  sound  happened  not  to  awaken 
in  his  mind  any  old  associations.  He  however  trusted 
that  Eoneguski  would  not  return  to  his  bark  cabin  in 
the  hollow  of  the  mountain,  but  make  his  regular  lodg- 
ing at  his  own  house.  He  renewed,  at  the  same  time, 
his  ancient  assurances  of  a  willingness  to  serve  the 
Cherokee  to  the  utmost  of  his  power. 

*•  To-morrow,"  said  the  Indian,  "  Eoneguski  must 
return  to  his  people ;  his  only  request  of  Aymor  is  that 
he  will  allow  Gideon  to  accompany  him,  and  revive  in 
the  heart  of  the  aged  Eonah  the  remembrance  of  the 
time  when  the  marrow  of  strength  was  in  his  bones — 
when  his  foot  was  swift  in  the  chace — and  his  arm 
strong  in  the  battle." 

"  It  is  a  long,  and  I  have  reason  to  think  it  a  danger- 
ous way,"  said  Aymor,  "and  you  need  not  wonder  if  I 
should  fear  for  my  son." 

"  He  shall  be  safe,"  replied  the  Indian ;  "if  any  harm 
befalls  the  young  man,  Eoneguski  will  return,  and  be 
the  slave  of  his  lather.  Does  Aymor  doubt  the  faith 
of  Eoneguski  ?" 

"  How  can  I,"  replied  Aymor.  "  If  my  son  wishes 
to  go  with  Eonegusld,  gratitude  will  not  allow  me  to 
forbid  him." 

"  I  do,"  said  Gideon. 

"  It  is  enough,"  said  the  Indian.  "  To-morrow  at  the 
same  hour  that  you  visited  him  this  morning,  Eonegus- 
ki will  expect  you.  But  before  I  depart,"  he  continued, 
addressing  Aymor,  "  I  would  gladly  be  informed  what 
befell  the  white  man  after  his  deliverance  from  his  ene- 
mies, and  his  departure  from  the  wigwam  of  Eonah." 

"  It  is  scarcely  worth  the  hearing,"  replied  Aymor, 
"  but  if  the  son  of  Eonah  desires  it,  I  may  not  refuse 
his  request.  It  is  a  subject  on  which,  perhaps,  I  am 
too  fond  of  dwelling,  but  it  is  the  infirmity  of  age  to 


68  EONEGUSKI. 

obtrude  upon  others  the  adventures  of  their  youth ;  and 
I  have  pleasantly  beguiled  many  a  winter's  evening-  in 
telling  over  the  incidents  in  which  I  was  concerned,  in 
Rutherford's  campaign,  in  which  neither  Eonah  nor  my 
youthful  advocate  was  forgotten.  But  I  have  so  often 
told  them  over,  that  I  am  scarcely  able  to  commence 
any  where  but  at  the  beginning,  and  then  go  regularly 
through.  But  that  would  be  altogether  too  tedious  for 
the  present  occasion,  and,  besides,  it  is  not  what  you 
wish  to  hear." 

Aymor  reflected  a  moment,  as  endeavoring  to  select 
a  suitable  place  of  commencement,  then  suddenly  turn- 
ing to  Eoneguski,  "  Did  your  father  ever  tell  you  how 
he  came  to  make  me  a  prisoner  ?" 

"  No,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Well,  as  it  is  somewhat  amusing,  I  will  begin 
there." 

Eoneguski,  addressing  himself  with  real  interest  to 
what  he  was  about  to  hear,  and  Aymor' s  own  family 
having  arranged  themselves  to  listen,  for  the  hundreth 
time,  to  one  of  the  incidents  with  which  they  were  per- 
fectly familiar,  he  went  on — 

ROBERT     AYMOR's     STORY. 

"  You  must  know,  then,  that  I  was  a  sergeant  in 
Captain  Lenoir's  company,  which  was  left  to  guard  the 
baggage  and  some  prisoners  at  a  village  we  had  just 
destroyed,  while  the  rest  of  the  army  went  on  to  attack 
another,  some  distance  off  The  captain  learnt,  some 
how  or  other,  while  we  were  here,  that  a  party  of  the 
Indians  had  passed  the  main  body  of  our  army,  and  in- 
tended at  night  to  surprise  us,  destroy  our  baggage, 
retake  our  prisoners,  and  scalp  every  individual  among 
us.  When  the  report  got  out  among  the  soldiers,  if  ever 
I  saw  frightened  men  it  was  then  ;  indeed,  the  officers 
were  no  great  deal  better,  except  the  captain,  who  was  as 
brave  a  man  as  ever  existed.  He  was  slow  of  speech, 
and  always  used  the  longest  words  he  could  think  of, 


EONEGUSKI.  69 

except  when  he  happened  to  be  vexed,  and  then  he 
talked  fast  enough,  and  very  much  like  other  men  in  a 
passion.  While  the  men  were  going  about  with  their 
heads  low,  like  partridges  in  a  brush  heap,  when  they 
hear  the  scream  of  the  hawk,  the  captain,  who  was  but 
a  low  man,  not  exceeding  five  feet  seven  inches,  walked 
about  the  camp  as  straight  as  an  Indian,  and  almost  tall 
enough  to  look  me  right  in  the  eyes.  I  do  think  he 
was  the  proudest  man  I  ever  saw,  at  the  thoughts  of 
having  a  brush  to  himself — that  is  to  say,  with  no  supe- 
rior officer  present.  He  made  the  best  preparations 
for  the  enemy  that  his  means  afforded,  and  did  every 
thing  in  his  power  to  cheer  up  the  spirits  of  the  men. 
It  wouldn't  do,  however — long  pale  faces  were  to  be  seen 
in  every  corner  of  the  encampment,  and  what  added  to 
the  unfavorable  prospect,  whether  the  water  disagreed 
with  them  or  not,  I  cannot  tell,  but  a  most  distressing 
complaint  broke  out  suddenly  among  them,  so  that  there 
was  scarcely  a  man  fit  for  duty.  This  was  a  severe 
blow  to  the  pride  of  our  captain,  who  came  up  to  me, 
with  the  most  comical  expression  of  countenance, 
4  Bob,'  said  he,  '  did  you  ever  see  such  a  pack  of 
cowards  V 

" '  Oh  Captain !'  said  I,  '  the  fit  will  soon  work  off' 
"  '  Work  off?'  said  he,  '  yes,  if  it  don't  work  off  soon, 
it  will  work  the  rascals  to  death,  and  there'll  be  no  body 
left  for  the  Indians  to  scalp  but  you  and  me.5 

" '  I'll  tell  you  what  I  would  do,  Captain,'  said  I, 

•  serve  them  out  another  canteen  a  piece  of  whiskey,  and 
I' 11  engage  you'll  have  no  more  difficulty.' 

" '  I  will  follow  your  advice,  Bob,'  and  away  he  flew 
like  one  who  had  just  got  possession  of  some  bright 
thought.  The  liquor  Avas  served  out,  and  I  defy  the 
best  doctor  in  the  country  to  discharge  as  many  invalids 
from  the  hospital  in  a  couple  of  hours  as  we  did  then. 

*  Who  cares  for  an  Indian  V  might  be  heard  shouted 
from  every  part  of  the  encampment;  'he  must  be  a 
poor  shoat  of  a  white  man  who  couldn't  whip  two  or 
three  of  them.' 


70  EONEGUSKI. 

"  '  What  a  delightful  change,  Bob,'  said  the  Captain, 
approaching  me  with  every  feature  beaming  with  plea- 
sure ;  '  there  is  not  a  man  amongst  them  who  would 
not  put  Hector,  Ajax,  or  Achilles  to  the  blush.' 

" '  They  ought  to  blush  for  their  own  cowardice,  if 
for  nothing  else,'  I  replied. 

"  '  Never  mind,'  replied  the  Captain,  '  it  is  all  over 
now,  and  I  forgive  them.— Bob,'  continued  he,  in  per- 
fect ecstasy,  '  this  promises  to  be  the  most  glorious  day 
of  my  life. — I  have  been  in  several  what  might  be 
called  severe  conflicts,  but  never  before  has  it  been  my 
lot  to  direct  with  my  own  voice  the  storm  of  battle.' 

" '  Why  Captain,  said  I,  '  are  you  certain  after  all 
that  the  Indians  will  attack  us?' 

"  The  Captain  looked  thoughtfully  for  a  moment,  and 
even  disappointed,  when  suddenly  brightening  up — '  It 
must  be  so  Bob,'  he  said,  'from  what  I  have  heard;  there 
can  be  no  doubt  of  it.  But  I'll  tell  you  what  you  must 
do.  Take  the  muster  roll,  and  draft  twenty  men,  and  go 
and  reconnoitre.  Do  you  understand  me  ? — that  is,  beat 
about  and  find  out  slyly  what  the  Indians  are  doing,  and 
come  and  let  me  know.'  Then  pausing  a  moment — 
1 1  ought  by  rights,'  he  continued,  '  to  send  out  one  of 
my  lieutenants,  but  I  am  certain  either  of  them  would 
create  a  false  alarm,  and  throw  every  thing  into  dan- 
gerous confusion.  I  must  however  offer  them  the  job, 
giving  them  to  understand  at  the  same  time,  that  the 
enterprise  is  a  dangerous  one,  and  that  I  should  prefer 
having  my  subalterns  about  me,  whose  counsel  I  may 
stand  in  need  of,  and  that  Sergeant  Aymor  can  be  better 
spared,  and  will  answer  the  purpose.' 

"  '  Agreed,  Captain,'  said  I,  '  any  way  you  please.' 

"  The  two  lieutenants  and  ensign  all  concurred  in 
saying,  that,  they  '  shrunk  from  no  office  of  responsibi- 
lity or  danger,  and  did  not  regard  the  whole  Cherokee 
tribe  more  than  a  swarm  of  insects,  but  if  Captain  Le- 
noir thought  they  could  be  more  useful  by  remaining 
in  camp,  they  had  no  objection  to  the  reconnoitring 
party  being  commanded  by  Sergeant  Aymor.' 


EONEGUSKI.  71 

"  I  accordingly  proceeded  to  draft  my  men,  and  as 
ill  luck  would  have  it,  among  others  the  lot  fell  upon  a 
fat  squab  of  a  fellow,  by  the  name  of  Thompson.  He 
was  not  more  than  eighteen  years  of  age,  and  his  flesh 
was  as  soft  as  a  pumpkin ;  he  was  pop-eyed,  and  had  a 
stupid  downcast  look ;  around  a  pair  of  thick  blubber 
lips,  which  would  have  been  no  discredit  to  a  real 
negro,  and  indeed  all  about  his  cheeks  and  chin,  was  a 
soft  white  fuzz,  which  gave  to  his  face  the  appearance  of  a 
mullen  leaf,  with  the  dew  upon  it.  His  voice  was  some- 
times squeaking,  like  a  young  goose  in  harvest,  and 
then  coarse,  like  that  of  a  large  bull-frog.  He  did  not 
lack  for  size — indeed,  he  might  have  passed  well  for  a 
young  giant,  but  he  was  as  weak  as  an  infant,  and 
breathed  like  a  wind-broken  horse,  after  the  slightest 
exercise. 

"  As  soon  as  he  was  drafted,  '  Sergeant'  said  he, 
'I  depend  upon  you.  My  mother  told  me  to  be  sure 
always  to  get  qne  of  the  officers  to  take  care  of  me,  and 
keep  me  out  of  danger.  I  always  liked  you,  Sergeant, 
and  I  know  you'll  take  care  of  me.'  I  wished  the 
poor  boy  at  the  devil,  and  had  much  rather  have  left 
him  behind,  and  gone  with  my  nineteen  men.  But  I 
felt  proud  of  the  notice  which  the  captain  had  taken  of 
me,  and  determined  to  go  on  smoothly,  and  make  the 
best  of  every  thing,  and  with  as  little  fuss  as  possible. 
So  off  I  marched  in  pursuit  of  the  Indians.  My  men 
all  did  better  than  I  expected,  and  even  my  youngster 
was  beginning  to  rise  smartly  in  my  estimation.  We 
marched  slyly  along,  as  silent  as  the  dead,  peeping 
cautiously  into  every  covert,  lest  we  might  be  in  the 
midst  of  the  Indians  before  we  were  aware  of  it. 

"  The  strength  of  Thompson  at  length  began  to  fail, 
and  he  to  wheeze  like  a  man  dying  with  the  asthma.  I 
perceived  that  his  canteen  was  nearly  full,  and  advised 
him  to  apply  to  it ;  he  did  so  frequently,  until  it  became 
evident  that  it  was  seriously  affecting  his  brain,  but  he 
continued  to  wheeze,  and  even  more  loudly.  '  Why 
Thompson,'  at  length  said  one  of  the  men,  we  might  as 


72  EONEGUSKI. 

well  have  brought  a  blacksmith's  bellows  along-  with 
us  as  you,  by  way  of  enabling  us  to  steal  unperceived 
upon  the  Indians.' 

"  At  this  moment  a  rifle  bullet  whizzed  amongst  us, 
and  one  of  our  men  fell  dead  upon  the  spot.  Without  a 
moment's  reflection,  or  waiting  for  orders,  all  of  the 
party,  except  Thompson  and  I,  directed  their  rifles 
somewhat  towards  the  place  from  whence  the  fatal 
bullet  seemed  to  come,  made  one  general  discharge, 
and,  as  if  by  common  consent,  immediately  turned 
about  and  ran  down  the  hill,  in  the  same  direction  from 
whence  we  had  come,  like  so  many  frightened  cattle. 
As  they  leaped  over  the  bushes,  the  coat-tails  of  such 
as  wore  them,  might  be  seen  flying  high  in  the  air, 
and  their  path  was  strewed  with  pieces  of  coats,  hunt- 
ing shirts,  and  breeches,  which  the  bushes  tore  from 
them  in  their  flight.  In  vain  I  called  to  them,  and 
strove  to  rally  them,  and  had  just  concluded  to  follow 
their  example  as  the  wisest  course  left  me,  when  a  volley 
of  bullets  whistled  about  us,  and,  to  my  consternation  and 
surprise,  Thompson  threw  upon  me  the  whole  weight 
of  his  huge  carcass,  with  his  arms  around  my  neck,  cry- 
ing out  like  a  great  baby,  •  For  God's  sake,  Sergeant, 
don't  leave  me,  it  would  break  my  poor  mother's  heart 
to  hear  that  I  had  been  scalped  by  the  Indians.' 

"We  were  on  the  brow  of  a  high  hill,  upon  the 
top  of  which,  it  seemed,  the  Indians  had  laid  their 
ambush,  to  Are  upon  us  just  as  we  should  clear  the 
natural  breastwork  which  the  slope  of  the  hill  afford- 
ed us.  It  was  this  ascent,  which  was  very  consider- 
able, that  I  supposed  tried,  so  severely,  the  strength  and 
wind  of  poor  Thompson.  Just  at  the  side  of  the  slope 
as  we  ascended  the  hill,  suddenly  broke  off  a  steep 
precipice,  near  to  the  edge  of  which  I  stood  when 
Thompson  threw  himself  upon  me.  I  exerted  my 
whole  strength  to  shake  him  off,  but  the  frightened 
creature  clung  to  me  like  a  bear,  when  he  is  wounded, 
and  knows  that  if  he  lets  go  it  is  all  over  with  him.  I 
scuffled  to  get  loose,  and  he  to  hold  on,  edging  ofTat  the 


EONEGUSKI.  73 

same  time  from  the  Indians,  until  we  fell  tog-ether  over 
a  steep  place,  I  suppose  at  least  twenty  feet  perpen- 
dicular. 

"  What  happened  after  that  I  know  not,  but  the  first 
thing  I  remember  was  waking  up  from  sleep,  and 
finding  myself  stretched  out  upon  a  buffaloe's  skin, 
surrounded  by  a  number  of  fierce  Indian  warriors. 
Fortunately  for  me,  I  understood  the  Indian  language, 
and  found  it  so  useful  to  me  then  that  I  have  taken  care 
since  to  teach  it  to  all  my  family — not  that  I  could  get 
any  satisfaction  out  of  the  Indians,  as  to  what  passed 
while  I  was  out  of  my  senses,  or  what  they  intended 
doing  with  me,  but  I  could  ask  for  what  I  wanted,  and 
if  it  was  to  be  had,  I  generally  got  it.  I  soon  found  that 
the  party  of  Indians  was  altogether  too  weak  to  have 
beaten  up  Captain  Lenoir's  quarters,  but  I  suppose  they 
calculated  on  the  effects  of  a  surprise,  and  this  the  run- 
aways put  entirely  out  of  the  question,  for,  as  I  after- 
wards learned,  they  got  safely  back  to  camp.  What 
became  of  poor  Thompson  I  have  never  learned  to  this 
day.  I  perceived  that  the  Indians  were  very  apprehen- 
sive of  going  in  the  direction  of  their  own  country,  for 
fear  of  encountering  some  of  the  detachments  of  Gene- 
ral Rutherford,  who  was  now  between  them  and  it;  so 
they  fell  back  in  this  direction,  and  one  night  actually 
encamped  upon  the  very  spot  where  we  now  are.  Pri- 
soner, as  I  was,  and  expecting  to  be  treated  as  Indians 
often  treat  their  prisoners,  I  could  not  help  being  struck 
with  its  beautiful  and  advantageous  situation ;  and  when 
I  came  to  this  country,  I  looked  it  out  and  settled  upon 
it. 

"After  beating  about  for  a  few  days,  and  burying  their 
dead  at  various  places,  the  party,  in  whose  custody  I  was, 
turned  their  faces  westwardly.  One  day  as  we  were  pur- 
suing our  march  with  great  caution,  I  heard  the  sound  of 
drums  and  fifes,  as  it  were,  down  in  the  very  bowels  of 
the  earth.  We  were  upon  the  top  of  a  very  high  hill, 
overhanging  a  deep  valley.  The  chief  of  our  party,  (it 
was  Eonah  himself,)  made  us  lie  close,  and  I  distinctly 

voi.  I. — 7. 


74  EONEGUSKI. 

saw  the  long  line  of  men  to  which  I  belonged,  winding 
like  a  thread  through  the  gulf  beneath  me ; — I  could 
distinguish  the  general,  my  own  company,  and  even  my 
brave  little  captain,  by  the  places  they  occupied,  but 
the  horses  did  not  look  much  larger  than  goats,  nor 
the  men  than  rabbits.  For  an  instant  I  could  scarcely 
avoid  crying  out  to  them,  but  I  knew  that  immediate 
death  would  be  the  consequence,  and,  although  my 
heart  beat  so  loudly,  that  I  fancied  they  might  almost 
hear  it,  I  saw  the  last  of  my  countrymen  pass  the  angle 
of  the  mountain,  and  heard  the  last  faint  sound  of  their 
distant  drum,  without  uttering  an  exclamation.  No- 
thing particular  afterwards  occurred  to  me  until  we 
reached  Eonee,  and  with  what  happened  there  you  are 
as  well  acquainted  as  myself." 

"  True,"  replied  Eoneguski,  "but  you  have  not  told 
me  what  I  was  most  anxious  to  learn,  and  that  is,  what 
befell  you  after  your  departure  from  Eonee." 

"  Oh,  hang  it,"  cried  Dolly,  "  I  have  heard  that 
plaguy  story  so  often  that  it  makes  me  sick.  For 
God's  sake,  Bob  Aymor,  can  you  never  find  any  thing 
to  tell  a  body  but  your  everlasting  stories  about  the 
war  ?" 

"  I  am  only  complying  with  the  wishes  of  the  stran- 
ger," replied  her  husband,  tartly,  "  and  nobody  is  com- 
pelled to  listen  who  does  not  desire  to  hear.  But  I 
fear,"  he  continued,  addressing  Eoneguski,  "  even  you 
will  be  weary  of  my  story." 

"  The  Cherokee,"  said  the  Indian,  "asks  nothing  that 
he  does  not  wish.  I  have  said  that  I  desire  to  listen  to 
the  white  man's  story." 


EONEGTJSKI.  75 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

his  unclosed  eye 

Yet  low'ring  on  his  enemy, 

As  if  the  hour  that  seal'd  his  fate 

Surviving,  left  his  quenchless  hate. 

Byron. 

A  man  does  not  treat  a  rebuke  with  more  deference 
from  feeling  suspicious  that  others  may  suppose  it  is 
somewhat  merited ;  and  a  consciousness  that  he  might 
have  been  rather  frequent  and  tedious  in  his  recitals  of 
the  events  of  Rutherford's  campaign,  did  not  enable 
Aymor  to  bear  with  more  patience  the  intimations  which, 
his  wife  occasionally  gave  him,  that  she  for  one  was 
tired  of  them.  On  the  contrary,  while  it  increased  for 
a  time  the  smart  they  gave  to  his  wounded  pride,  it  im- 
parted to  them  a  somewhat  abiding  effect,  by  subduing 
that  self-complacency  which  enables  a  man  to  bear  even 
injuries  with  something  of  calmness,  and  encounter  dif- 
ficulties with  composure.  The  fretting  operation  of  mor- 
tified pride  was  added  to  the  sense  of  intended  insult, 
and,  notwithstanding  the  cavalier  manner  in  which  he 
affected  to  treat  the  impertinence  of  his  wife,  as  recorded 
in  the  last  chapter,  it  yet  made  upon  him  a  serious  im- 
pression, and  disinclined  him  to  comply  with  the  request 
of  the  Indian.  But  he  could  not  refuse,  and  was  com- 
pelled to  proceed  under  all  the  disadvantages  of  perform- 
ing a  reluctant  task,  with  a  mind  agitated  by  excite- 
ments unconnected  with  the  subject  of  his  story. 

ROBERT    AYMOR'S    STORY    CONTINUED. 

"  I  will  now,"  continued  he,  "  attempt  the  relation  of 
what  happened  to  me  after  I  left  the  wigwam  of  your 
father,  the  Bear.     It  was,  as  you  remember,  although 


76  EONEGUSKI. 

there  was  no  moon  in  the  heavens,  a  beautiful  star-light 
night  when  we  parted,  and  I  stole  down  softly  past  the 
dwellings  in  Eonee.  All  was  still — not  a  glimmer 
of  fire-light  was  to  be  seen  amongst  them — and  not  a 
dog  growled  to  shew  that  he  scented  a  stranger.  I 
came  to  the  Tennessee  River,  and  heard  it  gushing 
along  its  rocky  bed,  unmingled  with  any  other  sound. 
A  solitary  canoe  was  lazily  swinging  backwards  and 
forwards,  to  and  from  the  bank  to  which  it  was  fastened 
by  a  rope  of  papaw  bark.  I  drew  it  towards  me,  so  as  to 
rest  the  bow  firmly  upon  the  bank,  then  laid  my  rifle  into 
it,  and  having  seated  myself,  paddled  quickly  across  the 
river,  but  not  without  much  difficulty  from  a  rapid 
current  continually  sweeping  me  down. 

"  I  had  just  fastened  the  canoe,  and  having  taken  my 
rifle,  was  preparing  to  ascend  the  bank  on  this  side  of 
the  river,  when  a  party  of  Indians  started  up.  '  Aha,' 
said  one  of  them,  (whose  voice  I  recognised  to  be  the 
same  with  that  of  the  Indian  with  whom  your  father 
had  words  concerning  me  in  the  evening,  and  whom  he 
called  the  Fox,)  turning  to  his  comrades,  '  Who  is  the 
liar  now,  the  Fox  or  the  Bear  ? — How  long  is  it,'  he 
said,  addressing  himself  to  me,  '  since  you  left  the  wig- 
wam of  Eonah?' 

"  '  Shew  me  first  your  right  to  ask  V  I  answered. 

"  '  The  right,'  said  he,  '  by  which  the  white  man 
burns  the  wigwams,  ravages  the  fields,  and  murders 
the  wives  and  children  of  the  red  men  whom  he  calls 
his  brothers — the  right  by  which  the  wolf  crushes 
the  bones  and  laps  the  blood  of  the  lamb  when  he  is 
hungry — the  right  by  which  the  eagle  stoops  upon 
the  dove  from  his  towering  height — the  right  by  which 
the  tornado  lays  low  the  trees  of  the  forest — the  right 
by  which  the  lightning  rives  asunder  the  firm  rooted 
oak — Power!' 

"And  he  looked  round  upon  his  comrades  as  if  to 
give  the  same  direction  to  the  eyes  of  him  whom  he 
addressed. 

"  *  I  am  under  the  protection  of  a  power  greater  than 


EONEGUSKI.  77 

yours,'  I  said,  emboldened  by  what  I  had  heard  in  the 
evening's  interview. 

"  ''Tis  false,'  he  replied,  '  the  power  of  Eonah  is  at 
an  end — the  Oewoehee  will  no  longer  be  cheated  of 
their  rights.' 

"  '  If  the  solemn  assurance  of  Eonah,  that  I  should 
pass  unmolested  will  not  protect  me,  I  have  nothing 
else  to  which  I  can  trust,  and  you  must  do  with  me  as 
you  like,'  I  said. 

" '  Have  you  the  word  of  Eonah,'  said  another,  who 
appeared  to  be  next  in  consequence  to  the  Fox,  stepping 
towards  me,  '  that  you  should  pass  in  safety  through 
the  Indian  country?' 

"  '  I  have,'  I  replied. 

"  '  How  shall  we  know  it  V  continued  my  last  inter- 
rogator. 

"  '  Know  you,'  said  I,  '  the  shot-pouch  and  rifle  of 
Eonah?' 

"  '  I  do,'  he  answered. 

"  '  Look  upon  these  then,'  I  said,  '  are  they  not  suffi- 
cient to  assure  you  that  I  am  under  the  protection  of 
Eonah  V 

"  '  It  is  enough,'  replied  the  Indian. 

"  I  now  saw  the  other  Indians  gradually  drop  away, 
until  the  Fox  and  I  were  left  alone. 

"  '  You  have  thirsted  for  my  blood  like  a  savage,  as 
you  are,'  I  said,  '  but  the  Great  Spirit  has  protected  me. 
The  day  may  yet  come  when  vengeance  shall  overtake 
you  for  having  pursued  me  with  so  much  malice.' 

"'Dog!'  said  he,  'do  you  threaten  the  Fox?'  in 
a  sharp  shrill  voice,  not  unlike  the  barking  of  that 
animal. 

"  '  I  dare  to  threaten  you !'  I  replied,  '  but  I  despise 
you  too  much  to  do  so.' 

"  I  heard  the  cock  of  his  rifle  click,  and  knew 
there  was  no  time  to  be  lost — I  threw  off  my  shot- 
pouch,  and  laid  aside  my  rifle,  in  an  instant,  and 
sprung  upon  him,  with  my  whole  strength,  endea- 
voring to  wrest  his  rifle  from  his  grasp.  But  he  held 
7* 


78  EONEGTJSKI. 

on  firmly,  and  we  jerked  each  other  hither  and  thither, 
in  our  struggle,  until  we  found  ourselves  up  to  our 
knees  in  the  river.  There  had  been  a  swell  in  the 
stream,  and  in  a  moment  or  two  more  we  were  beyond 
our  depth.  The  possession  of  the  rifle  now  became  a 
matter  of  small  consequence.  I  relaxed  my  grasp 
upon  it,  and  fastened  upon  the  throat  of  the  Fox,  I 
felt  the  rifle  strike  against  my  knees,  as  it  sunk  towards 
the  bottom  of  the  stream,  and  immediately  afterwards 
the  hands  of  the  Fox  about  my  throat,  in  fruitless  ef- 
forts to  grasp  it.  I  found  his  strength  was  gone,  and 
began  to  fear  that,  much  against  my  will,  as  well  as 
my  interest,  I  had  taken  away  his  life.  Indeed,  the 
rush  of  the  water  in  my  ears  informed  me  it  was  time 
to  strive  for  my  own  preservation.  I  accordingly  made 
the  proper  exertions,  rose  to  the  top  of  the  water,  and 
regained  the  shore.  There  I  did  not  stop  longer  than 
was  necessary  to  gather  up  my  property  and  recover 
my  breath,  but  in  that  time  I  distinctly  heard  the  Fox 
splashing  in  the  water,  as  the  current  bore  him  down, 
and  blowing  like  an  otter. 

"  I  now  hastily  pursued  my  journey,  guiding  my 
course  as  well  as  I  could  by  the  stars,  and  the  direction 
(of  which  I  had  a  general  notion)  of  the  Cowee  range 
of  mountains,  which  I  soon  began  to  ascend  with  much 
toil.  Day  was  beginning  to  break  when  I  reached  the 
crest,  which  was  not  much  wider  than  that  of  a  good 
large  buffaloe,  for  I  scarcely  knew  I  was  up,  before  I 
was  again  descending.  My  work  became  much  easier, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  I  found  myself  upon  the 
margin  of  the  Tuckasege,  which  rolls  at  the  base. 
Here  I  saw  a  new  difficulty  before  me — this  stream, 
like  the  Tennessee,  was  a  good  deal  swollen,  and  was 
therefore  too  deep  to  wade.  I  spent  some  time  in  tra- 
velling up  and  down  the  bank,  with  the  hope  of  acci- 
dentally meeting  with  a  canoe,  but  my  labor  was  fruit- 
less. It  was  true  I  saw  one  on  the  opposite  bank,  but  it 
might  as  well,  for  all  the  good  it  could  do  me,  have  been 
beside  the  one  in  which  I  had  crossed  the  Tennessee ; 


EONEGUSKI. 


79 


indeed,  much  better,  for  I  was  apprehensive  that  it 
might  have  carried  over  persons  I  had  rather  not  en- 
counter. 

"  Concluding  therefore  that  I  must  once  more  depend 
upon  my  strength  as  a  swimmer,  I  chose  to  land  some- 
what above  the  place  where  the  canoe  was  fastened  on 
the  other  side.  But  I  must  now  be  encumbered  with 
my  rifle  and  shot-pouch,  both  of  which  it  was  necessary 
at  all  hazards  to  keep  dry.  When  I  found  there  was  no 
other  way  of  getting  over  the  stream,  I  thought  there 
would  be  no  use  in  shilly-shallying  about  it,  so  I  gather- 
ed the  flap  of  my  shot-pouch  in  my  teeth,  and  raised 
my  rifle  with  one  hand  high  above  my  head,  and  having 
plunged  into  the  river,  tugged  for  the  opposite  shore. 
The  water  was  cold,  and  almost  took  away  my  breath, 
the  rapidity  of  the  current  carrying  me  some  distance 
below  where  I  had  intended  landing:  but  I  got  through 
safely,  and,  shaking  myself  like  a  water  dog,  went 
ahead. 

"  I  had  walked  on  just  long  enough  for  my  clothes  to 
be  getting  dry,  and  began  to  think  seriously  of  something 
to  eat,  when  a  large  grey  squirrel  came  tripping  across 
my  way,  and  ran  up  a  hickory  tree  near  which  I  was 
passing.  Thinks  I  to  myself,  now  I  will  make  trial  of 
the  Bear's  rifle,  and  for  the  want  of  something  better, 
bring  down  that  long  tailed  gentleman  for  my  break- 
fast. I  fired,  and,  as  I  expected,  the  squirrel  fell  dead. 
I  took  him  up,  intending  in  a  short  time,  and  at  some 
convenient  place,  to  kindle  a  fire  and  broil  him  ;  and  I 
have  had  many  a  worse  meal  than  he  would  have  fur- 
nished, even  as  I  should  have  to  eat  him  without  bread 
or  salt. 

"  Having  reloaded  my  rifle,  I  pursued  my  jour- 
ney. I  had  not  gone  far,  when  I  saw  lying  at  a  short 
distance  before  me  an  Indian.  If  he  was  alone  I  did 
not  fear  him,  and  if  he  was  not  alone,  I  knew  that 
retreat  was  perfectly  useless.  So  I  marched  on.  As  I 
approached  him,  he  had  the  appearance  of  one  dead — 
he  lay  in  perfect  stillness,  and  I  could  not  even  perceive 


80  EONEGUSKI. 

that  his  bosom  heaved,  as  it  should  have  done,  if  he  were 
yet  breathing- — besides  this,  streams  of  blood,  now  clotted 
and  dry,  had  run  in  various  directions  over  his  face  and 
bosom — his  right  arm  lay  under  him,  and  his  left  across 
his  body — his  half  open  eyes  had  the  glazed  appear- 
ance of  death — and  his  relaxed  lip  shewed  the  set  teeth 
of  one  who  had  died  in  agony.  1  took  hold  of  the  foot 
and  with  difficulty  lifted  up  one  of  the  legs  a  little  way, 
which  fell  back  to  its  place  as  soon  as  I  let  it  go,  with 
the  rigidity  of  death.  I  then  took  hold  of  the  arm, 
which  lay  across  the  body,  and  was  about  raising  it  up 
in  the  same  manner,  when,  as  quick  as  lightning,  the 
creature  rose  up  to  a  sitting  posture,  and  plunged  into 
my  bosom  a  knife  he  held  concealed  in  his  hand  be- 
neath him. 

"  '  Aha,'  said  he,  and  I  recognised  the  voice  and 
devilish  countenance  of  the  Fox.  I  instantly  threw 
myself  upon  him,  and  seizing  him  by  the  wrist  of  his 
right  hand  withdrew  the  knife.  It  was  bloody,  and  the 
wretch  yelled  with  delight  as  he  beheld  it.  I  snatched 
the  knife  from  his  grasp,  and  planting  my  knees  upon 
his  body,  and  bearing  my  left  hand  firmly  upon  his  fore- 
head, raised  my  right  with  the  intention  of  plunging  the 
knife  into  his  heart.  He  saw  my  purpose,  and  instead 
of  asking  for  mercy,  '  Strike,'  said  the  savage,  '  for  Chu- 
heluh  is  avenged.' 

"  He  doubtless  supposed  the  wound  he  had  given  me 
must  be  mortal,  and  such  it  certainly  would  have  been, 
but  for  the  most  providential  circumstance — for  the 
want  of  some  more  convenient  place  to  stow  away  my 
game,  I  had,  without  any  design,  thrown  the  squirrel  I 
had  just  killed,  into  the  bosom  of  my  shirt,  on  my  left 
side.  Nevertheless,  I  was  certain  that  the  knife  had 
touched  me,  for  I  distinctly  felt  the  blood  trickling  down 
my  side,  although  I  was  not  conscious  of  any  pain. 
But  I  was  satisfied,  from  my  feelings,  that  my  wound 
was  not  mortal,  and  I  even  believed  it  not  very  deep, 
from  the  length  of  the  knife  blade,  and  a  confidence  I  had 
from  its  direction,  that  it  must  have  passed  through  the 


EONEGUSKI.  81 

body  of  the  squirrel  before  it  reached  mine.  For  a 
moment  the  fate  of  the  Fox  was  balanced  in  my  mind — 
I  thought  of  my  obligations  to  his  chief,  and  the  dan- 
gers which  might  beset  me  in  my  progress  home  should 
I  provoke  farther  the  ill-will  of  any  of  his  people — 
and  the  life  of  the  Fox  was  saved. 

"  '  Go  !'  said  I;  '  for  the  second  time  I  grant  you  your 
life.'  Without  making  any  reply,  he  instantly  rose  to 
his  feet,  and  flew  with  the  utmost  speed  in  the  direction 
of  the  Tuckasege,  never  casting  a  look  behind  him,  as 
if  he  feared  a  change  of  my  purpose  in  relation  to  that 
life  for  which  he  had  been  too  proud  to  beg.  I  could 
not  help  laughing  to  see  with  what  speed  and  earnest- 
ness he  ran.  I  now  examined  the  state  of  my  wound, 
and  found  it,  as  I  had  expected,  quite  shallow,  nearly 
the  whole  of  the  knife,  from  the  longitudinal  position 
which  the  squirrel  had  assumed  in  my  bosom,  as  I 
bent  over  the  Indian,  having  been  buried  in  its  body, 
and  deriving  therefrom  its  bloody  appearance. 

"  Nothing  remarkable  aftenvards  occurred  until  I 
reached  Fort  Defiance,  where  I  found  my  father  mourn- 
ing for  me  as  a  dead  man.  He  received  me  as  one 
newly  risen,  and  was  scarcely  less  rejoiced  at  behold- 
ing again  the  old  family  watch,  for  which,  however, 
he  would  have  considered  the  Fox's  knife  a  full  equiva- 
lent. I  have  kept  the  knife  to  this  day,"  said  Aymor, 
producing  that  formidable  weapon.  "  As  for  the  chain, 
my  manner  of  disposing  of  it  was  highly  approved  by 
my  father." 

Soon  after  Aymor  had  finished  his  story,  Eonegus- 
ki  took  leave  of  the  family,  with  the  dignified  com- 
posure of  a  savage.  "  The  children  of  men,"  said  he, 
"are  like  leaves  scattered  over  the  earth,  the  winds 
breathe  upon  them,  and  they  are  gathered  in  heaps — it 
blows  again,  and  they  are  scattered  widely  asunder." 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  Gideon  repeated  in  detail 
what  he  had  heard  upon  the  mountain  side,  some  of  the 
particulars  of  which  he  had  previously  communicated. 
The  auditors   were   variously  affected,    according  as 


82  E0NEGUSKI. 

they  stood  related  to  the  different  circumstances ;  and  in 
the  estimation  of  all  Eoneguski  was  greatly  elevated. 

Atha  was  much  relieved  to  learn  that  he  had  aban- 
doned his  purpose  of  revenge  upon  Welch,  and  deeply 
affected  by  the  causes  which  lead  to  its  formation.  Con- 
firmation was,  however,  distressingly  added  to  Welch's 
self-condemnation — that  his  hands  were  actually  stained 
with  blood,  was  placed  beyond  doubt,  but  the  causes 
which  lead  to  the  homicide  were  yet  in  obscurity,  and 
there  was  still  room  to  hope  that  his  act  was  the  offspring 
of  necessity  or  accident.  New  causes  of  anxiety  were 
thus  opened  upon  her  mind,  from  which  she  sought  al- 
leviation by  disclosing  to  her  family  her  interview  with 
Welch,  at  the  fountain,  of  which  there  no  longer  existed 
a  necessity  for  concealment.  Aymor  regretted  still  more 
deeply,  when,  hearing  of  Welch's  trials  and  difficulties, 
his  harshness  towards  him,  but  cheered  himself  with 
renewed  hopes  of  his  return,  which  he  thought  derived 
support  from  his  having  been  seen  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. Dolly  wept,  and  declared  that  "  she  wished  she 
might  never  stir  if  John  Welch  wasn't  good  enough 
for  any  Aymor  in  the  world,  and  that  she  did  not  think 
him  the  paring  of  her  toe  nail  the  worse  for  having 
killed  a  drotted  Injun." 


EONEGUSKI.  83 


CHAPTER  IX. 

As  one  who  spies  a  serpent  in  his  way, 
Glist'ning  and  basking  in  the  summer  ray. 

Parnell. 

There  is  unquestionably  a  vast  difference  between 
that  mere  animal  principle,  found  in  the  males  of  almost 
every  species  of  the  brute  creation,  in  common  with 
man,  spurring  its  subject  on  to  the  accomplishment  of 
his  purposes,  regardless,  or  unconscious  of  danger — and 
that  moral  determination  which  characterizes  the  higher 
order  of  moral  constitutions,  and  prompts  to  the  perform- 
ance of  duty,  in  a  confident  reliance  upon  the  protect- 
ing arm  of  an  overruling  power,  and  to  willingness,  at 
the  same  time,  in  submission  to  His  will,  to  perish  in  its 
discharge.  And  yet  both  these  are  described  in  our 
language  by  the  word  Courage.  It  is  true,  that  some 
have  admitted  a  distinction,  which  they  represent  by 
the  phrases,  "  physical"  and  "  moral"  courage  :  while 
others  again  deny  that  the  latter  has  any  existence  at 
all,  and  will  not  allow  the  possession  of  the  admired 
quality  of  courage  to  any  who  are  not  stimulated  to  the 
prosecution  of  their  purposes  in  the  face  of  danger,  by 
a  mere  constitutional  impulse. 

It  would  seem  to  be  a  sufficient  outrage  upon  moral 
dignity  to  place  these  two  qualities  upon  an  equal 
footing,  but  it  is  surely  worse  than  Epicurean  brutality 
to  degrade  the  latter  to  a  rank  below  the  former,  or  alto- 
gether deny  its  existence.  The  word  Courage  is,  doubt- 
less, of  French  origin,  and  is  probably  derived  from 
Coeur,  (the  heart,)  indicating  its  character  as  a  moral 
principle,  from  its  being  the  chief  offspring  of  that  region 
of  our  moral  nature.  But  as  in  those  ages,  when  neces- 
sity for  great  individual  exposure  was  most  necessary, 


84  EONEGUSKI. 

intellectual  cultivation  was  at  its  lowest  ebb,  the  mere 
animal  impulse  was  much  more  common  than  the  moral 
sentiment ;  and,  by  popular  acclamation,  not  only  pro- 
cured an  equal  rank  with  the  latter,  but  finally  usurped 
the  whole  possession,  which  it  seems  resolutely  bent, 
through  the  assistance  of  its  friends,  forever  to  maintain. 

In  whatever  their  differences,  in  these  two  qualities, 
may  otherwise  consist,  we  may  safely  assert  that  the 
one  quality  is  the  property  of  the  brute  and  the  fool, 
and  the  other  of  the  wise  man  and  the  Christian.  The 
one  disregards  danger,  in  ignorance  of  its  existence — ■ 
the  other  sees  it,  but  feels  that  it  is  a  duty  to  encounter 
it,  and  that,  to  do  so  successfully,  it  must  be  done  with 
firmness. 

It  is  not  our  purpose,  then,  to  represent  in  the  conduct 
of  Robert  Aymor  in  his  various  conflicts  with  the  Fox, 
the  mere  champion  of  brute  force  and  fearlessness,  but  a 
man  of  strong  moral  powers,  backed  by  such  physical 
ones  as  made  them  effectual ;  and  to  exhibit  the  happy 
effects  of  that  habitual  self-control  over  the  moral  con- 
stitution, which  will  infallibly  elevate  a  man  to  a  more 
dignified  rank  in  the  scale  of  being  than  any  thing 
besides  ;  and,  for  the  practise  of  which,  no  high  degree 
of  intellectual  culture,  in  the  general  signification  of 
that  expression,  is  it  all  necessary.  Aymor  was  never 
insensible  of  the  danger  to  which  he  was  exposed  in  his 
various  interviews  with  his  malicious  enemy,  and  would 
gladly  have  avoided  them,  but  they  did  not  drive  him 
from  his  onward  path  of  duty,  or  render  themselves 
fatal,  by  giving  to  fear  a  triumph  over  his  faculties. 

In  order  to  connect  and  explain  that  portion  of  Ay- 
mor's  story,  contained  in  our  last  chapter,  it  is  necessary 
that  we  should  detail,  to  some  extent,  the  thoughts, 
purposes,  and  actions  of  Chuheluh,  in  his  attempt 
to  stir  up  the  populace  of  Eonee  against  their  chief. 
When  he  found  that  he  was  foiled  in  his  attempt  to  ex- 
cite them  to  madness  at  the  refusal  to  surrender  the  pri- 
soner to  be  be  put  to  death,  his  disappointment  was  very 
great. — His  sagacity,  however,  enabled  him  to  disco- 


EONEGUSKI.  85 

ver,  beyond  all  doubt,  that  Aymor  was  in  the  wigwam 
of  Eonah,  notwithstanding  what  had  been  said  to  the 
contrary.  Another  scheme  suggested  itself  to  his 
mind.  This  was  to  stir  up  a  party  of  Indians  from 
among  those  who  had  not  been  present  at  his  interview 
with  Eonah,  under  the  pretence  that  the  prisoner  had 
escaped  against  the  will  of  their  chief,  to  waylay  him 
at  the  river,  and  reconduct  him  to  Eonee;  and  he  trusted 
that  he  should  be  able  in  the  course  of  the  night,  so  to 
excite  the  thirst  of  the  savages  for  blood,  that  a  rebel- 
lion might  break  out  against  Eonah,  who  would,  doubt- 
less, endeavor  to  resist  or  severely  reprove  any  violence 
on  the  person  of  the  captive. 

In  this  plan  we  have  already  witnessed  his  ill  suc- 
cess. Some  farther  explanation  is,  however,  necessary. 
The  jealousy  and  personal  hatred  of  Chuheluh  towards 
Eonah  so  far  got  the  better  of  his  habitual  cunning, 
when  Aymor  referred  to  his  power  as  greater  than  his 
own,  that  he  was  induced  to  reply  in  such  way  as  lead 
to  a  discovery  by  the  Indians  who  accompanied  him,  of 
the  deception  he  had  practised  upon  them,  and  that,  under 
the  pretence  of  serving  their  chieftain,  he  was  endeavor- 
ing to  stir  them  up  to  rebellion  against  him. 

After  the  conflict  which  ensued  between  the  Fox 
and  himself,  Aymor  left  him  struggling  in  the  water, 
little  expecting  to  encounter  him  again,  but  Chuheluh 
was  an  adroit  swimmer,  and,  although  Aymor  had 
brought  him,  in  the  process  of  drowning,  to  the  very 
verge  of  insensibility,  and  so  far  exhausted  his  strength 
as  to  render  his  situation  exceedingly  precarious,  he 
was  yet  enabled,  after  many  desperate  struggles,  to  land 
some  distance  below,  on  the  same  side  with  Aymor. 
With  the  recovery  of  his  self-possession,  came  feelings 
of  the  most  malignant  revenge  towards  his  late  anta- 
gonist, as  well  from  the  sting  of  disappointed  expecta- 
tions, as  indignation  at  the  personal  disgrace  and  danger 
to  which  he  had  been  subjected.  Neither  did  the  loss 
of  his  rifle,  which  lay  buried  in  the  mud  and  sand  at 
the  bottom  of  the  Tennessee,  sit  lightly  on  his  mind. 

VOL.  I. 8. 


86  EONEGUSKI. 

The  purpose  of  revenge  was  no  sooner  formed,  than 
his  fertile  brain  teemed  with  plans  for  its  execution. 
The  only  weapons  now  remaining  to  him  were  his  toma- 
hawk and  scalping-knife,  and  with  one  or  both  of  these 
must  the  blood  of  his  victim  be  spilt.  The  scheme  most 
grateful  to  his  feelings,  and  that  which  appeared  most 
likely  to  succeed,  could  be  best  accomplished  with  the 
scalping-knife. 

Preparatory  to  his  other  arrangements  he  accordingly 
wounded  in  several  places  both  his  face  and  breast  with 
that  instrument,  not  very  "deeply  it  is  true,  but  suffi- 
ciently so  to  let  the  blood  flow  about  over  them,  in 
pretty  copious  streams ;  which  being  suffered  to  clot  and 
harden,  gave  to  him  the  appearance  of  one  upon  whom 
violence  had  been  inflicted.  His  next  step  was  to 
touch  the  point  of  his  knife  with  a  very  deadly  poison, 
so  that  if  the  wounds  he  meant  to  inflict  upon  Aymor 
should,  from  any  circumstance,  fail  to  be  mortal  in  them- 
selves, the  venom  infused  into  them  might  be  certain,  in 
a  very  short  time,  to  subdue  the  powers  of  life.  Thus 
equipped,  he  put  away  his  tomahawk,  the  better  to  as- 
sume the  appearance  of  a  spoiled  and  defenceless  victim 
of  violence. 

These  arrangements  were  all  completed  in  less  time 
than  we  have  taken  to  relate  them,  and  with  eager 
haste  he  set  out  upon  the  trail  of  Aymor.  After  a  time 
he  came  in  view  of  hi  u,  unperceived  by  his  intended 
victim,  and  dogged  his  steps  until  he  reached  the  sum- 
mit of  the  Cowee  Mountain.  Here  he  ascertained  from 
the  direction  he  was  taking,  the  place  where  Aymor 
would  probably  strike  the  Tuckasege,  and  taking  his 
own  course  rapidly  down  the  mountain  another  way, 
came  where  he  hoped  to  find  a  canoe,  and  was  not  dis- 
appointed. With  the  characteristic  dexterity  of  an  In- 
dian navigator,  he  caused  the  canoe  to  glide  across  the 
stream,  and  had  just  time  to  debark  and  conceal  himself 
among  the  shrubbery,  when  he  saw  Aymor  coming 
down  to'  the  river  in  search  of  some  means  of  passing 
over.     He  continued  to  watch  until  he  discovered  that 


EONEGUSKI.  87 

Aymor  was  preparing-  to  throw  himself  into  the  river 
to  swim,  when  he  retired  a  little  distance  farther  from 
the  bank,  and  intently  observed  his  contest  with  the 
current,  which  he  once  or  twice  feared  would  rob  him 
of  his  victim,  and  even  thought  of  plunging  in,  to  as- 
sist the  waters  in  their  conquest,  and  share  in  their  tri- 
umph. But  his  plans  were  otherwise  formed; — and 
who  does  not  prefer  doing  things  in  his  own  way? 
Aymor  was  accordingly  permitted  to  land,  and  pursue 
his  journey,  while  Chuheluh  sought  a  fitting  opportunity 
to  consummate  his  purpose.  As  he  kept  at  a  little  dis- 
tance from  the  side  of  Aymor,  concealing  himself  from 
observation  by  the  shrubbery,  and  treading  with  a  light 
feathery  footstep,  he  came  suddenly  upon  a  squirrel 
seated  upon  its  haunches,  with  its  beautiful  bushy  tail 
curled  over  its  back,  busily  engaged  in  gnawing  out 
the  kernel  from  a  hickory-nut.  So  noiselessly  had  the 
savage  approached,  that  he  had  almost  grasped  the 
animal  before  it  discovered  him.  Dropping  at  the 
same  moment  both  its  brush  and  its  hickory-nut,  the 
squirrel  tripped  away  in  the  direction  of  Aymor,  and 
finding  its  enemies  so  thick  about  it,  retreated  preci- 
pitately up  the  large  hickory  tree,  on  whose  fruit  it  had 
been  regaling. 

Chuheluh  saw  that  Aymor  was  looking  up  after  the 
squirrel,  and  concluded  he  was  contemplating  for  the 
animal  the  same  fate  impending  over  himself.  The 
delay  thus  produced  was  just  sufficient  for  the  purposes 
of  the  Fox,  who  hastened  forward  and  threw  himself 
where  he  supposed  he  must  attract  observation,  in  the 
position  already  described  by  Aymor,  and  counterfeited, 
with  practised  skill,  the  symptoms  of  death ; — and  we 
have  already  been  informed  what  followed. 

But  Aymor  was  mistaken  in  the  cause  of  Chuheluh's 
flight.  The  truth  was,  that  he  looked  upon  Aymor's 
fate  as  sealed,  and  having  glutted  his  vengeance,  had 
no  desire  to  expose  himself  to  any  accountability,  either 
to  the  whites  or  his  own  people,  as  a  murderer,  and, 
therefore,  wished  to  be  as  far  and  as  early  removed 


88  EONEGUSKI. 

as  possible  from  the  scene.  But  he  was  as  much  mis- 
taken in  his  calculation,  as  Aymor  in  his  conjecture, 
for  the  body  of  the  squirrel  had  been  as  effectual  in 
disarming  the  knife  of  its  venom,  as  in  shielding  the 
heart  of  Aymor  from  its  reach ;  and  thus  proved  a 
defence  in  all  respects  as  effectual  as  the  fabled  asgis 
of  Minerva. 


E0NEGUSK1.  89 


CHAPTER  X. 

In  sooth  his  form  was  free  and  bold, 
And  cast  in  nature's  noblest  mould. 

****+•****** 

But  I  had  look'd  to  see  as  soon 
Th'  uncavern'd  wolf,  in  frolic  boon, 
With  bounding-  fawns  unfeared  agree, 
As  that  between  them  love  should  be. 

*********** 

I  chided  and  forbade — alas  ! 
Too  late  to  save  my  child  it  was. 

Yamoyden. 

Contiguous  parts  of  the  several  States  of  North 
Carolina,  Georgia,  and  Tennessee,  from  their  long-  pos- 
session by  the  Cherokee  tribe  of  Indians,  have  since  the 
period  of  which  we  speak,  been  generally  known  by  the 
name  and  style  of  the  Indian  Nation.  Yet  this  was 
after  the  once  boundless  territory  had  been  subjected 
to  several  of  those  paring  processes,  called  treaties. 
At  the  time  our  story  commences,  the  southern  and 
western  boundary  was  quite  undefined;  but  within  what 
has  since  been  called  the  "  Nation,"  as  well  as  the 
formerly  limitless  possessions  of  the  Cherokees,  lay  the 
country  to  which  Gideon  Aymor  was  invited  by  the 
generous  and  hospitable  hero  of  our  story. 

But  to  bring  up  all  our  characters  as  nearly  as  pos- 
sible to  the  same  point  of  time,  before  we  accompany 
Gideon  on  his  visit,  we  must  return  to  the  evening 
when,  according  to  the  story,  John  Welch  ventured 
to  ask  Robert  Aymor' s  approval  of  his  passion  for  his 
daughter. 

Aymor,  as  Ave  have  seen,  was,  in  his  way,  a  proud 
man,  and,  notwithstanding  the  great  obligations  he  was 
under  to  a  portion  of  that  race,  collectively  he  enter- 
tained towards  the  Indians  the  most  deep  rooted  con- 


90  EONEGUSKI. 

tempt  and  hatred.  Nor  was  he  at  all  singular  in  this. 
It  will  be  found,  we  believe,  among  the  whites  generally, 
that  with  those  whose  minds  have  not  been  liberalized 
by  education,  or  whose  natural  dispositions  are  not  un- 
commonly noble,  previous  to  much  knowledge  of  In- 
dian character,  the  prevalent  feeling  towards  that  people 
is  one  of  apprehensive  dislike,  if  not  of  shuddering 
horror — the  result  doubtless  of  the  stories  which  almost 
all  have  heard  from  their  infancy,  of  their  ferocious 
cruelty  and  subtle  vindictiveness.  Those  who,  by  fami- 
liar intercourse  with  them,  have  enjoyed  opportunities 
of  better  knowledge,  instead  of  that  kindness,  which 
is  the  ordinary  effect  of  familiar  intercourse  between 
any  two  of  the  creatures  of  God,  suffer  a  contempteous 
hatred  to  spring  up.  This  circumstance  presents, 
both  to  the  divine  and  the  philosopher,  a  theme  for 
melancholy  reflection.  We  strongly  suspect  that  it  is 
only  to  be  accounted  for  by  the  fact,  that  such  persons 
usually,  like  Aymor,  are  borderers,  who  make  use  of 
the  advantages  with  which  Providence  has  blessed  them, 
not  to  improve  the  condition  of  their  less  favored  breth- 
ren of  the  red  skin — not  to  impart  to  them  from  their 
stores  of  knowledge,  which,  like  the  miraculous  cruise 
of  oil,  suffer  no  diminution  from  pouring  a  portion 
of  them  out — not  to  shew  them  the  way  to  individual 
comfort  and  collective  prosperity — not  to  point  them 
to  the  flowery  path  of  virtue,  and  to  those  ways  of 
pleasantness  which  are  only  to  be  found  in  the  pursuits 
of  piety,  under  the  direction  of  a  heaven-descended 
religion — but  to  cheat  and  defraud  them  of  the  little 
they  have — and  that  they  may  fall  the  easier  prey  to 
their  cupidity,  so  far  from  removing  from  their  eyes 
the  bandage  of  ignorance,  they  rather  strive  continual- 
ly to  thicken  its  folds — those  things  which  might  pro- 
cure to  them  individual  comfort  and  collective  prosperity, 
as  fast  as  they  arise,  are  artfully  abstracted,  and  the  fas- 
cinations of  vice  are  presented  to  their  infatuated  hearts, 
and,  chiefly  among  these,  the  allurements  of  drunken- 
ness— that  practice  most  injurious  to  themselves,  and 


EONEGUSKI.  91 

best  calculated  to  put  them  in  the  power  of  the  spoiler. 
Obedient  to  a  law  of  nature,  which  prescribes  more 
bitter  hatred  from  the  inflicter  of  wrong  towards  him 
who  suffers,  than  even  that  from  the  sufferer  towards 
him  who  inflicts,  they  habitually  hate  whom  they  habi- 
tually wrong,  and  contempt  is  added  for  the  stupidity 
which  sees  not,  or  the  tame  humility  which  suffers  the 
wrong. 

Nay  more,  the  lands  which  the  theoretic  justice 
and  liberality  of  the  governments  of  the  white  people 
have  secured  to  the  exclusive  possession  of  the  Indians, 
bearing  to  the  wide  inheritance  from  which  they  have 
been  driven,  about  the  same  proportion  that  the  cloud 
seen  by  the  servant  of  the  Prophet,  no  larger  than  a  man's 
hand,  bore  to  the  masses  of  vapor  which  immediately 
sprung  up,  and  deluged  the  land  of  Israel,  are  stretched 
out  before  them.  The  native  freshness  of  these  lands 
is  like  that  in  which  this  whole  continent  was  beheld  by 
the  first  of  its  transatlantic  visiters — trees  are  seen 
shooting  high  up  among  the  clouds  of  heaven,  while 
around  their  massy  trunks  luxuriant  vines  climb  up  and 
cling  for  support,  bearing  down  their  branches  to  the 
earth  by  the  rich  and  ponderous  clusters  of  their  fruit — 
while  beneath  this  covert  the  long  rank  grass  spreads 
out  its  perennial  verdure.  These  lands  they  look  upon, 
from  their  impassible  confines,  as  the  Israelitish  leader 
did  from  the  top  of  Pisgah  upon  the  rich  valleys  where 
dwelt  the  children  of  Edom — with  a  longing  glance. 
But  the  laws  of  the  country  are  strict,  and  highly  penal, 
and  no  means  of  possessing  them  is  allowed,  but  alli- 
ance by  marriage  with  the  despised  race.  Many,  very 
many,  comply  with  the  desperate  condition,  but  more  sit 
like  the  vulture,  watching  the  moment  when  some  relax- 
ation of  the  law  shall  invite  them  to  the  spoil,  or  until  a 
provision  in  some  treaty  shall  cause  another  removal 
of  this  treaty-tossed  people,  as  that  bird  watches  the  ex- 
tinction of  the  last  spark  of  life  from  his  destined  prey. 
Meantime,  protracted  expectation,  causes  them  to  fret 
against  the  obstacle  which  opposes  the  gratification  of 


92  EONEGUSKI. 

their  wishes,  until  they  almost  feel  that  the  Indian  is  an 
intruder  upon  the  soil  of  his  nativity,  and  might  justly 
be  crushed  like  a  reptile  in  their  path,  impeding  their 
advance  to  fame  and  fortune. 

In  such  a  state  of  things  who  can  wonder  that  Ay- 
mor  was  opposed  to  the  marriage  of  his  daughter  with 
one  of  the  Indian  race  %  It  is  true,  that  for  Welch  indi- 
vidually, he  even  felt  an  attachment,  and  had  scarcely 
once,  thought  of  his  Indian  blood,  until  it  was  forcibly 
presented  to  his  consideration  in  that  mental  coup  oV  mil 
to  which  one  is  subjected  with  whom  any  important 
connection  is  proposed.  He  certainly  had  not  been 
ignorant  of  the  intimacy  between  the  families,  and  he 
was  not  a  man  so  little  observant  of  nature,  as  to  be 
unconscious  of  the  probable  effect  of  daily  intercourse 
between  two  persons  of  their  period  of  life,  of  opposite 
sexes,  and,  especially,  when  cut  on\  as  it  were,  from  the 
rest  of  the  world,  each  was  so  highly  gifted  with  those 
qualifications  most  likely  to  attract  the  other.  But  the 
truth  is,  like  other  men  of  a  sanguine  temperament,  he 
was  never  disposed  to  believe  what  he  did  not  wish  to 
be  true,  and  if  the  subject  ever  flashed  across  his  mind 
he  dismissed  it  at  once,  as  one  upon  which  he  might 
never  be  called  to  decide :  and  therefore  not  being 
guarded  by  previous  reflection,  the  whole  magazine  of 
his  passions  was  exposed  to  ignition  as  soon  as  this 
subject  was  brought,  like  a  sudden  spark,  in  contact 
with  it,  and  the  effect  has  been  already  described. 
When  the  explosion  was  over,  Reason,  who,  had  she 
been  consulted  in  time,  might  have  prevented  the  mis- 
chief altogether,  had  nothing  left  to  her  but  to  regret 
those  evils  she  could  not  repair,  and  apply  herself  to  the 
hindrance  of  their  farther  spread. 

It  is  the  wont  of  every  man  who  acts  habitually 
under  the  restraint  of  reason,  when  he  finds  that  a 
naturally  hasty  temper  has  triumphed  for  a  time,  like  a 
tamed  beast  over  the  authority  of  its  keeper,  to  retire 
alone  until  the  monster  returns  to  obedience, .  lest,  in 
the  mean  time,  he  may  do  mischief  which  cannot  be 


EONEGUSKI.  93 

repaired.  And  this,  Aymor,  who  was  a  philosopher  in 
his  way,  practised  on  the  present  occasion,  and  went  out 
as  soon  as  he  had  sufficiently  recollected  himself  to 
acquire  composure,  to  think  calmly  over  the  subject; 
and  not  as  Gideon  feared,  with  any  hostile  intent  towards 
Welch.  The  result  was,  that  perceiving  the  strong  at- 
tachment of  his  daughter,  and  considering  the  subject 
in  all  its  bearings,  he  gradually  became  reconciled  to, 
and  at  length  even  wished  for  that  to  which  he  had 
been  so  violently  opposed. 

Meantime  Welch,  writhing  under  the  torture  of  dis- 
appointed love,  and  with  the  pride  of  his  spirit  wound- 
ed to  agony,  took  the  desperate  resolution  of  forsaking 
those  scenes  which  continually  reminded  him  of  his 
former  happiness,  and  present  disgrace  and  bereave- 
ment, with  the  protecting  roof  of  those  who  had  more 
than  supplied  to  him  the  places  of  father  and  mother, 
and  lose,  amid  the  coarseness  and  ignorance  of  that 
people  with  whose  blood  he  had  been  taunted,  that  re- 
finement of  character  and  sensibility  of  heart,  which 
gave  to  his  present  distresses  all  their  power  over  him. 
He  could  not,  however,  reconcile  it  to  himself  to  depart 
without  taking  leave  of  his  kind  benefactors,  but  yield- 
ed not  to  their  most  earnest  entreaties,  an  abandonment 
of  his  purpose,  a  promise  of  speedy  return,  or  even  the 
knowledge  of  his  place  of  destination.  Yet  his  own 
family  and  that  of  Aymor,  though  visited  with  some 
fears  to  the  contrary,  were  disposed  to  consider  his  con- 
duct as  the  waywardness  of  a  boy,  who  had  been 
crossed  in  love,  and  to  believe  that  he  would  persevere 
in  it  only  during  the  violence  of  the  excitement  which, 
had  caused  its  adoption.  They  therefore  confidently 
expected,  that  in  a  few  weeks  at  furthest,  his  rifle 
would  again  be  heard  waking  up  the  echoes  of  the 
Homony.  But,  in  his  own  mind,  the  purpose  of  Welch 
was  firmly  fixed,  and  he  hastened  on  gloomily  to  its 
fulfilment. 

For  a  considerable  part  of  his  way  Welch  had  no 
difficulty  in    procuring  every  tiling  for  his  comfort, 


94  EONEGTJSKI. 

for  at  that  period  the  white  settlements,  though  thin, 
were  at  convenient  distances,  to  meet  his  necessities 
with  a  ready  supply,  in  a  spirit  of  hospitality,  that 
prominent  virtue  of  border  life.  Indeed,  the  settlements 
had  become  so  numerous,  even  on  the  western  side  of 
Pigeon  River,  that  a  court-house  had  been  erected  at  a 
place  called  at  first  Mount  Prospect,  but  which  very 
soon  afterwards  acquired  those  additional  constituents  of 
a  town — a  tavern,  a  store,  and  a  blacksmith's  shop: 
and  was  yclept  Waynesville,  doubtless  in  honor  of  mad 
Anthony,  and  by  the  way  of  salutary  admonition  to  the 
Indians  in  the  vicinity  not  to  provoke  any  more  of  those 
wholesome  chastisements,  which,  in  times  past,  that 
hero  was  wont  to  bestow  upon  the  red  skins. 

Passing  by  Waynesville,  a  few  hours  walking  carried 
Welch  within  the  Indian  country,  as  settled  by  the  act 
of  the  Legislature  of  North  Carolina,  in  1783,  and  far 
out  of  sight  of  any  dwelling  of  the  whites.  A  new 
feeling  of  desolation  came  over  the  spirits  of  the  young 
man  when  he  had  passed  what  he  was  told  was  the 
imaginary  line  separating  the  jurisdiction  of  civilized 
man  from  that  of  the  savage — when  he  reflected  that 
he  was  going  into  voluntary  exile — from  the  dominion 
of  those  distinctly  prescribed  and  well  settled  laws, 
under  whose  protection  he  had  grown  up  from  infancy 
to  manhood,  to  yield  himself  to  the  capricious  deter- 
minations of  savage  justice — from  the  endearments  of 
tried  friends,  to  the  cold  reception  of  strangers — that  he 
had  cast  away  a  comfortable  provision  to  him,  as  cer- 
tain as  a  birth-right,  and  become  a  wandering  depend- 
ant upon  the  charity  of  chance — that  he  had  torn  asun- 
der cords  of  affection,  as  strong  as  blood  commonly 
knows,  and  was  going  in  a  desperate  search  for  the 
fountain  by  whose  impurity  the  stream  of  his  existence 
had  been  poisoned. 

Reflections,  such  as  these,  must  have  damped  the 
ardor  of  his  advance,  had  not  Pride  whispered  him, 
"  Behind  you  is  misery  and  disgrace,"  and  Hope  sigh- 
ed softly,  "  Before  you — you  know  not  what."     Thus 


EONEGUSKI.  95 

spurred  on  and  invited,  he  pressed  forward,  trusting- 
much  to  accident — and  casually  falling-  in  with  an  In- 
dian, who  led  him  hither  and  thither,  according-  to  his 
own  business  or  caprice.  Welch  at  length  found  him- 
self at  a  place  called  Sugar  Town. 

We  are  apt  to  believe  that  the  name  of  Sugar  Town 
is  an  awkward  corruption  by  the  white  people  of  Saga 
Town,  for  here,  at  the  time  we  speak  of,  lived  an  ancient 
Indian,  called  Saga,  or  Prophet — that  is,  a  sage  or  wise 
man,  who  was  believed  to  possess  most  astonishing 
powers  of  prescience,  and  was  of  course  looked  up  to 
with  unbounded  reverence  and  respect  by  the  whole 
Cherokee  public.  On  all  extraordinary  and  solemn 
occasions  he  was  the  chief  director  of  ceremonies,  and 
answered  in  his  various  functions  to  the  office  both  of 
priest  and  physician,  as  exercised  among  people  more 
civilized.  We  think  it  probable  that  Sugar  Town  (or 
rather  Saga  Town)  was  early  the  chosen  place  of  pro- 
phetic residence  for  the  Valley  Indians,  and  from  thence 
took  its  name,  being  at  a  convenient  site  from  whence- 
official  calls  to  any  part  of  the  Valley  might  be  answer- 
ed. For  .the  Overhills  and  Middle  Settlements,  (the 
other  great  branches  of  the  Cherokee  family,)  it  is  like- 
ly provision  was  made  for  their  bodily  and  spiritual 
wants,  by  a  Saga  residing  among  themselves,  while 
the  Prophet  of  the  Valley,  from  his  central  position, 
maintained  over  his  brethren  a  kind  of  pre-eminence, 
and  was,  in  all  probability,  supposed  to  be  more  deeply 
embued  with  the  spirit  of  divination.  However  all  this 
may  have  been,  a  famous  prophet  resided  at  the  In- 
dian village  which  has  become  known  to  the  white 
people  as  Sugar  Town,  at  the  time  the  unfortunate 
Welch  terminated  at  that  place  his  wanderings  for  a 
season. 

Welch  had  commenced  inquiries  with  almost  the 
first  Indian  he  met,  for  a  clue  by  which  to  ascertain  the 
persons  who  had  laid  on  him  the  burden  of  existence — 
but  his  inquiries  had  been  hitherto  altogether  fruitless, 
and  were  continued  with  as  little  success  after  his  arri- 


96  EONEGUSKI. 

val  at  Sugar  Town.  From  day  to  day  he  purposed  an 
application  to  the  renowned  Saga,  but  the  accounts  he 
heard  of  him  filled  him  with  a  kind  of  superstitious 
awe,  which  caused  the  procrastination  of  what  he  de- 
termined shortly  to  perform.  Upon  his  arrival  at  the 
village,  destiny  had  conducted  him  to  the  house  of  the 
old  chief,  called  Santuchee,  or  the  Panther,  where 
he  was  kindly  received,  and  pressed  to  spread  his  blan- 
ket, as  his  home,  and  share  the  daily  connehany.  No 
offer  could  seem  more  opportune  than  such  an  one  to 
a  homeless  wanderer,  and  was  therefore  gratefully 
accepted. 

There  were  no  tenants  of  the  wigwam  but  the  aged 
Panther,  and  his  no  less  aged  squaw,  Wattuna,  and 
notwithstanding  it  was  the  wigwam  of  the  chief,  there 
was  an  appearance  of  gloom  and  of  decay  about  it, 
the  evident  effect  of  neglect,  to  be  found  no  where  else 
in  the  village.  Dejection  sat  heavily  upon  the  coun- 
tenances of  the  aged  couple,  unbroken  by  the  slightest 
or  most  ordinary  expression  of  pleasure.  This  was  not 
company  in  which  a  young  man,  bowed  down  with  dis- 
tresses of  his  own,  would  be  likely  to  regain  that  mental 
quiet  of  which  Welch  was  in  pursuit,  or  in  which  he 
would  speedily  enjoy  the  sunshine  of  cheerfulness.  A 
painful  curiosity  to  know,  and  desire  to  console  the  afflic- 
tions of  his  benefactors,  however,  superseded  in  his  mind, 
to  a  great  extent,  its  own  grievances,  and  became  subjects 
of  engrossing  interest.  But  a  sense  of  delicacy  did  not 
allow  him  to  seek  through  the  li[  s  of  strangers  the 
private  history  of  a  family  of  which  he  had  become  a 
member;  nor  was  he  altogether  willing,  by  addressing 
the  parties  themselves,  to  probe  anew  wounds  which, 
though  evidently  not  healed,  had  probably  by  time  be- 
came partially  callous.  But  he  could  not  bear  the 
gloomy  silence  that  continually  reigned  in  what  was 
now  his  home,  and  finally  determined,  at  all  hazards, 
to  penetrate  the  sad  mystery. 

The  figurative  language  in  which  savages  are  wont 
to  express  themselves,  has  been  a  subject  of  remark  and 


EONEGUSKI.  97 

admiration  to  more  polished  nations,  and  has,  as  we  con- 
ceive, been  unjustly  ascribed  to  something  peculiar  in 
the  genius  of  the  people.  We  are  disposed  to  attribute 
it  rather  to  the  poverty  of  their  language,  than  to  any 
boldness  or  richness  of  conception  in  themselves.  In  a 
paucity  of  words,  the  speaker  is  necessarily  compelled 
to  use  them  frequently  in  a  figurative  sense,  just  as  those 
who  are  thrown  together  without  a  common  language, 
are  driven  to  the  use  of  signs.  Let  a  man  who  is  but 
little  imaginative  in  the  use  of  his  own  language,  sup- 
posing it  a  pretty  copious  one,  (English  for  instance,) 
have  occasion  to  speak  in  one  which,  from  its  own  bar- 
renness, or  his  circumscribed  knowledge  of  it,  furnishes 
him  with  few  terms,  and  his  style  will  be  changed  at 
once  into  one  bold,  sententious,  and  figurative.  Such 
was  the  case  with  Welch,  as  he  addressed  Santuchee  in 
the  Cherokee  tongue. 

"  Why  is  my  father  sad  ?."  he  said,  one  day,  address- 
ing the  Panther,  "  and  why  is  there  no  sunshine  in  his 
countenance?" 

"  There  is  no  sunshine  in  the  sky  of  Santuchee," 
replied  the  Panther,  shaking  his  head  mournfully — "the 
sun  which  once  shone  upon  his  path,  has  set. — For 
many  moons  has  Santuchee  sat  in  the  cheerless  shadow 
of  the  night." 

"  The  sun  shall  rise  again  upon  the  path  of  my  fa- 
ther," said  Welch,  "and  the  dark  shadows  of  the  night 
shall  fade  away." 

The  old  man  suddenly  rose  up,  and  with  a  strength 
that  almost  made  Welch  cry  out  with  pain,  seized 
him  by  the  wrist,  and  with  the  wild  countenance  of  a 
maniac,  looked  him  in  the  face.  Welch  was  not  a 
coward,  yet  he  was  alarmed,  and  like  many  others  have 
done,  both  before  and  after  him,  heartily  wished  that  he 
had  not  intermeddled  officiously  in  other  men's  matters. 

"  Can  the  stranger,"  said  the  old  man,  in  a  deep  gut- 
tural voice,  and  with  the  emphasis  of  one  who  really 
sought  information — "  Can  the  stranger  wake  the  sleep 
of  the  dead?" 

VOL.  I. 9. 


98  EONEGUSKI. 

Surprised  and  alarmed  as  he  was,  Welch  answered 
with  calmness,  "  That  belongs  alone  to  the  Great 
Spirit." 

"  Then  say  not,"  replied  the  old  chief,  (and  he  made 
the  frail  cabin  ring  again  with  a  frantic  laugh,  throwing 
from  him  at  the  same  time  with  violence  the  arm  of 
Welch,)  "Then  say  not  to  Santuchee — his  sun  shall 
rise." 

'  He  walked  moodily  back  towards  his  seat,  and  threw 
himself  upon  it,  like  one  yielding  to  despair. 

For  a  moment  Welch  thought  of  prosecuting  the 
matter  no  further,  but  the  ice  was  now  broken,  and  he 
hoped  that  the  worst  was  over,  and,  besides,  every  motive 
that  had  stimulated  him  to  the  first  onset,  had,  by  the 
present  result,  been  put  into  more  lively  action.  He 
therefore  proceeded  after  a  short  pause — 

"  The  Great  Spirit  hath  not  left  the  world  in  dark- 
ness when  the  sun  has  set — look  out  upon  the  stars  and 
the  broad  bright  moon,  how  gloriously  they  sparkle 
upon  the  Tennessee  waters — there  may  yet  be  light 
upon  the  path  of  my  father,  though  the  sun  of  his  sky 
is  hid  in  the  grave." 

"There  is  no  moon  nor  star  in  the  sky  of  Santuchee," 
said  the  old  chief,  with  emotion,  "  Cheasquah  was  the 
only  light  of  his  eyes,  or  the  warmth  of  his  heart." 

"  And  tell  me,  my  father,"  continued  Welch,  "  who 
was  Cheasquah?" 

"  Dost  thou  ask  me  stranger,"  said  the  old  man, 
passionately,  "  dost  thou  ask  me  who  was  Cheasquah  ? 
Begone  from  my  wigwam — it  is  but  to  mock  the  grief 
of  his  father  that  you  tell  him  your  ears  are  strangers 
to  the  fame  of  Cheasquah. — He  was  the  warrior  of  his 
tribe,"  he  cried,  with  animation — "  he  new  with  the 
wing  of  the  bird  in  the  chase — he  was  the  lion  in  the 
battle" — but,  resuming  his  melancholy  tone  of  voice, 
"  the  Leech  has  sucked  the  life-blood  of  Santuchee,  and 
the  voice  of  the  Bird  no  more  gives  its  music  to  his 
ear." 

A  kind  of  hysteric  passion  now  seized  upon  San- 


EONEGTJSKI.  99 

tuchee,  which,  as  soon  as  it  had  passed  away,  was  suc- 
ceeded by  a  sound  sleep.  In  the  mean  time  Wattuna 
had  been  a  perfectly  passive  listener  to  the  conversation 
between  Welch  and  her  husband,  and  did  not  appear 
either  alarmed  or  surprised  at  its  effect  upon  the  latter ; 
but  Welch  bad  too  much  reason  to  be  dissatisfied  with 
the  result  of  his  experiment  upon  the  old  chief  to  renew 
it  upon  Wattuna,  and  was  forced  to  content  himself  for 
the  present  with  the  information,  that  he  was  dwelling 
in  the  bouse  of  bereaved  parents,  without  knowing-  how 
this  misfortune  had  come  upon  them. 

Days  passed  away,  when  Welch,  finding  himself 
alone  with  Santuchee,  at  some  little  distance  from  the 
village,  prompted  by  a  desire  of  carrying  into  execution 
a  purpose  he  had  formed,  of  becoming,  by  regular 
adoption,  a  member  of  his  family,  in  despair  of  disco- 
vering that  to  which  by  nature  he  belonged,  he  ad- 
dressed him  as  follows — 

"  Let  my  father  adopt  his  son  in  the  room  of  the  lost 
Cheasquah.  He  will  bend  his  head  as  low  to  the  words 
of  wisdom  as  if  he  were  the  child  of  his  own  blood. 
And  now  that  the  elder  blossom  is  white  on  the  head  of 
Santuchee,  and  the  marrow  of  strength  is  no  longer  in 
his  bones,  he  will  have  a  young  warrior  upon  whose  arm 
he  may  lean,  to  support  the  steps  of  his  tottering  age." 

The  first  expression  of  joy  which  Welch  had  ever 
seen  light  up  the  countenance  of  the  Panther,  now 
flashed  across  it — he  regarded  Welch  for  a  moment 
with  a  look  of  complacency,  then  eagerly  exclaimed — 

"  Will  the  young  man  avenge  the  blood  of  Cheas- 
quah?" 

The  embarrassment  of  Welch  was  great  upon  this 
most  unexpected  question,  and  he  was  by  no  means 
ready  with  an  answer  satisfactory  to  himself.  His 
mind  glanced  like  lightning  over  the  field  of  difficulties 
thus  spread  out  before  him,  and  a  cold  perspiration  suf- 
fused his  person.  But  this  was  no  time  for  reflection — 
he  had  been  the  first  to  stir  the  subject,  little  conscious  of 
the  consequences  to  which  it  might  lead;  and  it  was  not 


100  EONEGIJSKI. 

for  him  to  leave  unanswered  a  question  provoked  by 
himself,  unless,  indeed,  he  might  avoid  it,  by  asking 
another.  This  plan  he  adopted,  and  inquired  with 
affected  composure,  "  On  whom  should  I  avenge  it?" 

"  On  the  accursed  Leech,"  replied  the  chief. 

"And  who  is  the  Leech,  my  father?"  continued 
Welch. 

"  He  is  one  of  the  people  of  Eonee,"  replied  the 
Panther. 

"  Where  is  Eonee?"  said  Welch. 

"  Follow  the  waters  of  the  Co  wee,"  said  Santuchee, 
"  and  they  will  lead  you  to  it." 

"  How  many  moons  have  passed,"  inquired  Welch, 
"since  the  Leech  shed  the  blood  of  Cheasquah?" 

Santuchee  held  up  his  two  hands  for  an  instant,  then 
touched  with  the  fore-finger  of  his  right  hand  the  tips 
of  each  of  the  fingers,  and  the  thumb  of  his  left,  and  the 
little  finger  of  the  same  a  second  time — "Sixty?"  said 
Welch.  Santuchee  nodded  assent — "  And  why,"  con- 
tinued Welch,  "has  vengeance  slumbered  until  now?" 

"  Santuchee,"  replied  the  chief,  "  was  thirsty  for  ven- 
geance, and  for  these  many  moons  (holding  up  his 
hands  as  before,  and  then  touching  with  his  right  fore- 
finger the  tips  of  the  two  middle  fingers  of  his  other 
hand,)  he  followed  the  Leech  upon  the  mountains. — 
But  the  Leech  was  active,  like  the  young  stag,  and 
the  chill  of  age  was  in  the  blood  of  the  Panther. 
The  young  man  laughed  at  the  gray  haired  warrior, 
and  the  spirit  of  Cheasquah  rebuked  his  weakness. — 
Will  the  young  man  avenge  the  troubled  spirit  of 
Cheasquah?" 

"Father  !"  replied  Welch,  "the  Great  Spirit  is  angry 
with  those  who  spill  the  blood  of  his  children.  How 
then  can  I  shed  the  blood  of  the  Leech  ?" 

"  Did  the  Leech  fear  the  anger  of  the  Great  Spirit 
when  he  poured  out  the  blood  of  Cheasquah?"  said 
Santuchee,  reproachfully. 

"  The  blood  of  the  Leech  cannot  bring  back  Cheas- 
quah to  rejoice  the  spirit  of  his  father,"  said  Welch. 


EONEGUSKI.  101 

"  But  it  can  refresh  the  spirit  of  Santuchee,  which  is 
thirsty  for  vengeance,"  cried  the  old  chief,  passionately. 
"  Its  drops  will  be  instead  of  the  tears  of  Wattuna. — It 
can  send  the  spirit  of  Cheasquah  in  peace  to  the  hunt- 
ing grounds  of  the  blessed.  Will  the  young  man 
avenge  for  me  the  blood  of  Cheasquah?" 

"  Father,"  said  Welch,  imploringly,  "there  is  nothing 
that  the  young  man  would  not  gladly  do  for  his  father, 
but  his  hands  are  as  yet  unstained  with  the  blood  of  his 
race; — then  bid  him  not  take  away  the  life  of  the 
Leech." 

"Away!"  said  the  old  man,  furiously,  "Santuchee 
will  have  no  son  until  Cheasquah  is  avenged."  So 
saying,  he  turned  away  from  Welch,  leaving  him  rooted 
to  the  spot  in  amazement  and  perplexity. 

"  Wretched  man,  that  I  am,"  said  the  youth  to  him- 
self, "why  was  I  not  contented  with  the  quiet  I  enjoyed  % 
why  did  I  officiously  arouse  the  sleeping  lion? — My 
own  rashness  has  driven  me  from  my  home — my  un- 
grateful interference  has  disturbed  the  quiet  of  my  bene- 
factor— it  has  raised  a  storm  to  destroy  my  own  hopes 
of  repose,  and  wrecked  the  peace  of  those  who  had 
given  me  the  protection  of  their  roof." 

In  self-reproaches,  such  as  these,  did  Welch  pass 
many  minutes,  ere  he  moved  from  the  spot  where  San- 
tuchee had  left  him. 


102  EONEGITSKI. 


CHAPTER  XL 


but  who  art  thou, 


Of  foreign  garb  and  fearful  brow  ? 
And  what  are  these  to  thine  or  thee, 
That  thou  shouldst  either  pause  or  flee  ? 
He  stood — some  dread  was  in  his  face. 

*********** 

Byron. 

The  concatenation  in  which  misfortunes  are  gene- 
rally found  has  been  a  frequent  subject  of  remark,  and 
has  even  grown  into  a  proverb.  It  is  not  impossible, 
that  what  are  commonly  called  misfortunes,  are  gene- 
rally, in  truth,  the  natural  fruits  of  mismanagement,  or 
imprudently  indulged  passion.  If  this  be  so,  it  is  no 
way  astonishing  that  the  same  imprudence  or  unskill- 
fulness  which  produces  one  mishap,  should  be  the  parent 
of  many.  Yet  it  is  very  seldom  that  the  victim  of 
trouble  is  disposed  to  consider  his  own  vices  or  foibles 
the  causes  of  his  griefs,  but  is  rather  inclined  to  look 
for  them  in  some  inscrutable  purpose  of  Providence, 
marking  him  out  for  affliction  and  disappointment,  and 
even  believes,  that  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  evil 
destiny,  the  laws  of  nature  are  sometimes  changed  or 
suspended. 

Into  a  frame  somewhat  conformable  to  this  last  view, 
did  the  mind  of  Welch  settle,  after  having  exhausted 
itself  in  fruitless  self-reproaches,  as  he  walked  gloomily 
from  the  scene  of  his  last  interview  with  Santuchee, 
regardless  of  the  direction  in  which  he  might  wander. 
He  was  unwilling  to  return  to  the  wigwam  of  the 
Panther,  where  he  doubted  somewhat  of  the  reception 
he  might  meet;  and  whatever  might  be  the  outward  man- 
ner, he  could  scarcely  expect  a  hearty  welcome  upon 


EONEGUSKI.  103 

any  other  condition  than  that  upon  which  he  shuddered 
even  to  think.  Besides,  he  dreaded  a  renewal  of  those 
solicitations  in  which  now,  that  the  ice  was  broken, 
there  was  great  reason  to  apprehend  the  utmost  per- 
severance. He  dreaded  them,  both  on  account  of  their 
immediately  distressing  effect  upon  his  moral  sense,  and 
the  tendency  they  might  possibly  have  ultimately  to 
plunge  him  into  a  guilt,  towards  which  he  had  never 
yet  felt  the  slightest  impulse ;  for  he  was  not  ignorant 
of  the  sapping  operation  of  continued  temptation  or 
solicitation,  upon  the  best  principles.  He  therefore 
resolved  to  fly — though  he  knew  not  whither. 

By  a  most  unaccountable  fatality  he  found  himself 
at  length  walking  with  troubled  steps  upon  the  banks  of 
the  Cowee  or  Tennessee  River.  The  murmur  of  the 
stream  was  soothing  to  his  spirits,  and  seemed  to  invite 
him  to  bury  in  its  bosom  his  worldly  troubles.  But 
Providence  has  mercifully  ordained,  that  when  the 
author  of  all  Evil  is  permitted,  under  the  pressure  of 
heavy  calamity,  to  whisper  to  the  mind  rebellious  sug- 
gestions of  suicide,  there  should  generally  be  in  the  way 
of  the  otherwise  facile  listener,  something  in  the  accom- 
plishment repugnant  to  a  lesser  instinct  of  nature,  even 
when  that  master  one,  the  horror  of  destruction,  has  been 
subdued.  And  so  was  it  with  Welch,  who,  however 
much  he  might  have  been  disposed  to  lie  down  under 
the  tempter's  lullaby,  upon  some  lonely  couch,  and 
forget  all  his  sorrows  in  a  sleep  that  was  to  know  no 
waking,  yet  found  something  in  the  cold  surface  of  a 
stream  ruffled  into  waves,  and  along  its  edges  crisped 
into  ice  by  a  bleak  December  blast,  forbidding  obedience 
to  its  own  inviting  murmurs,  or  the  urgent  prompt- 
ings of  despair.  Thus  attracted  by  one  power,  and 
repelled  by  another,  he  naturally  took  the  intermediate 
direction,  and  unconsciously  pursued  along  its  side  the 
seared  leaves  which  the  gusts  of  wind  cast  upon  the 
surface  of  the  stream,  until  he  found  himself  in  sight 
of  Eonee.  Here  he  bethought  himself  of  renewing  his 
search  after  his  natural  parents,  and,  among  others, 


104  EONEGTTSKI. 

had  occasional  conversations  with  Eoneguski.  But 
fate  conducted  him  to  the  wigwam  of  Chuheluh  as  his 
place  of  residence  while  he  remained  in  Eonee. 

It  has  been  already  said,  that,  like  many  other  men 
of  less  talent  than  himself,  Chuheluh  aspired  to  the 
highest  office  in  the  community  to  which  he  belonged, 
and  like  them,  found  it  an  indispensable  means  of  success 
to  traduce  and  endeavor  to  supplant  those  who  stood 
higher  than  himself  in  public  confidence.  Among 
those  most  ardently  attached  to  the  family  of  the  present 
chief  of  the  Eonee,  (being  himself  a  member  of  it,) 
and  one  of  those  most  active  in  countervailing  the 
deceitful  and  traitorous  practises  of  Chuheluh,  and  at  the 
same  time  the  most  indefatigable  and  successful,  was  the 
Leech.  He  was  therefore  an  object  of  especial  hatred 
to  Chuheluh,  who  was  perfectly  aware  of  Welch's 
recent  residence  at  Sugar  Town,  and  that  he  was  there 
looked  upon  as  already  an  adopted  member  of  that  com- 
munity, and  the  son  of  their  chief,  and  that  it  was  daily 
expected  Santuchee  would,  by  some  solemn  and  public 
act,  indicate  his  desire  that  Welch  might  become  his 
successor.  This  impression,  although  quite  general,  had 
not  excited  towards  Welch,  any  ill-will  in  the  bosoms  of 
that  people;  it  had,  on  the  contrary,  endeared  him  to 
them,  and  he  was  daily  advancing  in  their  esteem. 
Upon  these  circumstances,  connected  with  others,  as 
soon  as  Chuheluh  found  himself  upon  terms  of  intimacy 
with  Welch,  did  he  build  the  hope  of  being  able  to  rid 
himself  of  his  troublesome  and  hated  foe,  the  Leech, 
without  involving  himself  in  the  peril  which  might  attend 
his  destruction.  Our  acquaintance,  the  Fox,  was  now 
well  stricken  in  years,  nearly  thirty  having  elapsed  since 
we  saw  him,  in  the  prime  of  life,  struggling  with  Aymor. 

A  few  days  after  Welch  had  taken  up  his  residence, 
as  the  partaker  of  the  hospitalities  of  his  wigwam,  they 
were  alone  together.  "  Chuheluh  is  wise,"  said  the  Fox, 
"  he  hath  seen  many  moons — his  bosom  keeps  like  the 
grave  the  secrets  of  his  friend." 

He  waited  for  an  answer,  but  Welch  made  no  reply. 


EONEGUSKI.  105 

"  Chuheluh  and  the  young  man  are  one,"  he  conti- 
nued, "  he  need  not  fear  to  trust  him." 

Welch  was  still  silent,  naturally  concluding-  that  the 
Fox  alluded  to  the  causes  of  his  coming  to  the  Indian 
country,  of  which  nothing  could  have  induced  him  to 
speak.  He  did  not  for  a  moment  suppose  that  the  Fox 
had  any  allusion  to  the  feud  between  Santuchee  and 
the  Leech.  But  that  was,  in  truth,  the  subject  in 
which  the  Fox  just  then  felt  an  interest  above  every 
other,  and  from  the  first  had  suspected  that  Welch  had 
come  to  Eonee  for  the  purpose  of  avenging  the  quarrel 
of  his  adopted  family. 

"  My  brother  need  not  wear  the  veil  in  the  presence 
of  Chuheluh,"  he  once  more  proceeded.  "  The  eye 
of  Chuheluh  is  keen,  and  he  sees  into  the  hearts  of 
men. — But  my  brother  need  not  fear,  for  Chuheluh 
loves  not  the  Leech." 

"  John  Welch  and  the  Leech  are  strangers,"  replied 
Welch. 

"  But  Chuheluh  will  point  him  out  to  my  brother," 
replied  the  Fox. 

"  John  Welch  cares  not  to  see  the  Leech,"  he  said. 

"  Why  will  my  brother  seek  to  deceive  Chuheluh  ?" 
asked  the  crafty  Fox. — "  He  came  here  to  avenge  upon 
the  Leech  the  blood  of  Cheasquah,  and  Chuheluh  is 
wise,  and  will  give  him  counsel." 

"  You  would  not  counsel  me  to  take  the  life  of  one 
of  your  own  people  ?"  said  Welch,  artlessly. 

"  Is  not  the  blood  of  Cheasquah — of  your  brother — 
on  his  hand? — Chuheluh  reverences  the  laws  of  his 
people." 

"  Of  what  law  do  you  speak  ?"  inquired  Welch. 

'•  That,"  replied  Chuheluh,  "  which  says  to  the  war- 
rior— Your  brother  is  dead — the  murderer  is  before 
you  ; — which  says  "  Avenge  the  blood  of  your  brother, 
or  you  are  a  woman. 

"  Is  such  the  law  of  the  Oewoehee  ?"  said  Welch, 
with  mingled  surprise  and  concern. 

"  It  is,"  replied  the  Fox,  "and  Chuheluh  knows  that 


106  EONEGUSKI. 

his  brother  is  brave,  and  will  not  let  the  women  point 
at  him  and  say,  where  is  the  blood  of  Cheasquah  ?" 

"  But  why,"  inquired  Welch,  anxious  to  avoid  the 
point  upon  which  Chuheluh  was  pressing  him,  "  why 
has  not  the  blood  of  Cheasquah  been  avenged  long 
since  1 — It  is  many  moons  since  he  ceased  to  live." 

"  Because  the  vengeance  of  the  Panther  wanted 
wings  to  bear  it,"  replied  the  Fox,  "  and  because  his 
eye  no  longer  looked  keenly  along  the  barrel  of  his 
rifle." 

"  And  why  did  not  some  of  the  people  of  Sugar 
Town  lend  to  their  aged  chief  their  swiftness  and 
strength  ?" 

"  Because  it  was  the  son  of  their  chief  who  was  slain, 
and  it  was  his  right  to  avenge  the  deed,  and  none  of  his 
people  dared  to  move  until  he  said — Go  !" 

"  And  why  did  not  Santuchee  say  to  some  of  them, 
Go?" 

"  That,"  said  Chuheluh,  "  you  might  ask  Santuchee, 
but  I  doubt  not  that  he  waited  for  an  adopted  son  to 
avenge  the  blood  of  his  brother.  And  John  Welch 
hath  come,  for  he  is  the  adopted  son  of  Santuchee." 

"  By  the  white  man's  law,"  said  Welch,  "  none  may 
take  away  the  life  of  his  brother,  but  by  the  word  of  a 
Skiagusta.  And  they  teach  that  the  Great  Spirit  is 
angry  if  he  does." 

"  And  is  my  brother  governed  by  the  laws  of  the 
cowardly  pale  faces  1  Let  not  my  brother  say  so.  The 
blood  of  Cheasquah  cries  to  him  for  vengeance — the 
dark  soul  of  Santuchee  appeals  to  him  in  melting  ac- 
cents— and  the  tears  of  Wattuna  fall  warm  upon  his 
feet." 

A  groan  of  agony  now  burst  from  the  bosom  of 
Welch,  and  the  Fox,  startled  by  it,  turned  upon  him  a 
countenance  of  amazement.  But  immediately  compre- 
hending the  nature  of  the  struggle  in  his  mind,  "  My 
brother,"  said  he,  "  is  sick — to-morrow  I  will  go  with 
him  to  the  Saga,  at  Sugar  Town,  and  he  will  heal  my 
brother." 


EONEGUSKI.  107 

Desperate  as  this  hope  was,  Welch  had  heard  of  the 
wisdom  and  reputed  goodness  of  the  Saga,  as  well  as 
the  terrors  of  savage  conjuration,  in  which  he  was 
wont  to  array  himself,  and  therefore  instantly  resolved 
to  make  him  the  confident  of  his  difficulties,  with  the 
hope  that  he  would  point  out  to  him  some  way  of 
escape :  and,  at  the  same  time,  fulfil  his  procrastinated 
purpose  of  seeking  from  him  information  concerning 
his  parentage. 

"  It  is  well,"  said  Welch,  "  we  will  go  to  the  Saga." 

"  Chuheluh  does  not  willingly  leave  his  sick  brother," 
said  the  Fox,  "  but  he  cannot  be  with  him  again  until 
to-morrow,  when  he  will  guide  his  footsteps  to  the  Pro- 
phet and  Medicine.  But  my  brother  will  be  safe  in 
the  wigwam  of  Chuheluh,  and  let  him  think  upon  his 
words,  for  Chuheluh  is  wise." 

Leaving  John  Welch,  fevered  both  in  mind  and  body, 
Chuheluh  hastened,  by  a  circuitous  route,  lest  observa- 
tion might  defeat  his  purpose,  to  the  residence  of  the 
Prophet,  which  was  in  one  of  the  very  outer  wigwams 
of  the  village  of  Sugar  Town.  It  was  about  sunset 
when  he  arrived,  and  knocking  at  the  door,  was  admit- 
ted by  a  negro  lad,  the  property  of  the  Saga,  apparently 
about  fifteen  years  of  age.  This  boy  had  been  purchased 
as  one  possessing  qualifications,  or  rather  disqualifica- 
tions, wmich  rendered  him  peculiarly  apt  for  the  service 
of  a  juggler,  in  which  secrets  might  come  into  his  pos- 
session for  the  keeping  of  which  it  was  important  there, 
should  be  the  best  security.  Nature  had,  it  seemed, 
denied  to  him  the  power  both  of  speech  and  of  hearing. 
Yet,  although  he  uttered  no  aiticulate  sounds,  he  had 
many  others  at  command,  which  habit  had  enabled  him 
to  make,  by  the  use  of  particular  muscles,  and  to  re- 
gulate their  kind  and  intensity.  It  may  be,  that  one, 
unable  to  hear  the  voices  of  others,  may  yet  have  the 
auditory  nerve  sufficiently  sensitive  to  be  conscious  of 
sounds  uttered  by  himself.  Whether  this  be  so  or  not, 
upon  a  sign  made  to  him  by  his  master,  this  boy  was 
capable  of  sending  forth  sounds  bearing  a  strong  resem- 


108  EONEGUSKI. 

b  lance  to  the  cries  and  other  noises  made  by  several  of  the 
brute  animals,  so  as  to  deceive  a  very  intelligent  listener. 
Besides  this,  he  seemed  to  have  an  intuitive  perception, 
upon  the  most  cursory  view,  of  those  persons  whom  his 
master  would  be  willing  to  see  in  dishabille,  as  well  as 
those  for  whom  it  was  necessary  that  the  note  of  pre- 
paration should  be  sounded.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  he 
perceived  that  it  was  Chuheluh  who  asked  admittance, 
a  significant  gesture,  and  a  wider  spread  of  the  humble 
portal,  invited  him  to  enter. 

Chuheluh  was  not  backward  in  accepting  the  cour- 
tesy of  the  sable  porter.  He  found  the  Prophet  stretched 
at  full  length  upon  a  pile  of  blankets  and  bufTaloe 
skins — his  left  elbow  resting  upon  it,  with  the  arm  and 
hand  elevated,  supporting  his  head.  His  weather-beat- 
en face  was  seamed  with  the  furrows  of  age — his  eyes 
were  dim,  though  not  altogether  sightless  ;  and  his  face, 
which  time  had  reduced  to  an  almost  negro  blackness, 
strikingly  contrasted  with  long  straight  locks,  of  snowy 
whiteness.  His  frame  was  large  and  well  knit  together, 
and  his  extreme  leanness  would  have  shewn  to  the 
skilful  anatomist,  without  the  assistance  of  the  knife, 
each  muscle,  fibre,  and  ligament  of  his  body. 

"  What  does  Chuheluh  require  of  Susquanannacun- 
ahata  ?"  said  the  Saga. 

"  The  son  of  the  Saga  has  business  with  his  father," 
replied  Chuheluh. 

"  The  hand  of  time  is  heavy  on  Susquanannacunahata, 
he  needs  repose,"  said  the  Prophet. 

"  Is  my  father  sick?"  inquired  the  Fox. 

11  Age  is  a  perpetual  sickness,  and  Susquananna- 
cunahata is  old.  Have  I  not  already  told  you  that  you 
shall  be  the  chief  of  the  Eonee,  when  Eonah  shall  go 
to  his  last  sleep,  whither  he  is  hastening.  Why  would 
you  harass  one  already  oppressed  with  infirmities'?" 

"  It  is  not  of  the  chieftainship  of  the  Eonee,  or  the 
death  of  Eonah,  that  I  would  now  speak  with  you," 
said  Chuheluh. 

"  It  is  well,"  said  the  Saga,  apparently  gratified  with 


EONEGUSKI.  109 

the  prospect  of  some  other  subject,  "  say  on ;  the  ears 
of  Susquannacunahata  are  open." 

44  A  young  man  has  come,"  said  Chuheluh,  44  from 
the  settlements  of  the  pale  faces,  and  has  spread  his 
blanket  in  the  wigwam  of  Santuchee." 

The  Saga  was  agitated,  as  if  fearing  to  learn  some- 
thing that  might  affect  him  injuriously.  "  It  is  true," 
he  replied,  after  a  pause;  and  searching  with  his  dim 
eye  the  countenance  of  Chuheluh,  as  if  to  read  his 
thoughts — 44  He  is  the  adopted  child  of  Santuchee." 

44  He  comes  to-morrow  that  he  may  hear  words  of 
wisdom  from  the  Saga. — There  is  a  cloud  upon  his 
soul,"  said  Chuheluh. 

The  Saga  became  more  agitated. — 44  What  would 
the  young  man  know  of  the  Saga1?"  he  stammeringly 
inquired. 

44  You  remember,"  replied  Chuheluh,  44that  the  blood 
of  Cheasquah,  the  young  warrior  of  Sugar  Town,  is 
on  the  hand  of  the  Leech  ?" 

44 1  know  it,"  replied  the  Saga,  breathing  freer,  as 
if  relieved  of  a  burden. 

44  The  young  man,"  continued  the  Fox,  "  would  be 
the  adopted  son  of  Santuchee,  and  yet  would  dance 
together  with  the  Leech,  the  dance  of  friendship,  when 
the  green  corn  is  gathered." 

44  He  is  a  woman,"  said  the  Saga,  emphatically. 

44  It  is  enough,"  said  Chuheluh,  44  to-morrow  when 
the  sun  shall  come  with  its  light  to  Eonee,  Chuheluh 
and  the  young  man  will  set  out  for  the  wigwam  of  the 
Saga,  and  he  shall  speak  words  of  wisdom  to  the  young 
man." 

44  It  is  enough,"  replied  the  Prophet,  and  Chuheluh 
departed. 

It  did  not  escape  the  observation  of  Wissa,  or  the 
Cat,  (for  that  was  the  name  borne  by  the  slave,  proba- 
bly in  allusion  to  his  activity  and  slyness,)  that  Chuhe- 
luh had  left  his  master  much  more  excited  and  restless 
than  he  was  wont  to  be  from  the  calls  of  ordinary  visit- 

VOL.  I. — 10. 


110  EONEGUSKI. 

ers,  but  his  thoughts  respecting  it  were,  for  very  suffi- 
cient reasons,  locked,  for  the  present,  within  that  narrow 
region  of  mysteries — his  own  heart. 

We  have  sometimes  thought  that  the  practice  of  think- 
ing aloud,  otherwise  called  soliloquizing,  is  much  more 
prevalent  with  children  and  persons  in  advanced  life, 
than  those  in  whom  the  natural  powers  are  in  maturity 
and  vigor.  On  some  other  occasion,  we  may,  perhaps, 
account  for,  and  defend  the  existence  of  this  phenome- 
non, but,  for  the  present,  we  will  content  ourselves  with 
barely  stating  it  as  a  fact.  Whether  correct  in  it  or  not, 
as  a  general  proposition,  the  Saga  of  Sugar  Town  fur- 
nishes an  instance  of  a  very  aged  man,  who  was  in  the 
habit,  when  he  supposed  himself  alone,  of  speaking  aloud 
what  was  passing  in  his  mind.  It  was  probably  in 
part  for  this  very  reason  that  he  selected,  as  an  attend- 
ant, one  of  whose  services  he  might  avail  himself,  while 
his  infirmity  of  deafness  would  relieve  him  from  all  fear 
of  ill  consequences  from  his  habit  of  conversing  with 
himself.  One  instance  of  his  indulgence  in  this  pro- 
pensity occurred  as  soon  as  Chuheluh  had  left  him. 

"  The  boy  yet  lives,"  he  said,  "  blooming  like  the 
bay  flower,  whom  Soquilla  gave  to  the  fire-god's  breath. 
Soquilla  loved — the  Great  Spirit  saw  the  heart  of 
Soquilla,  and  knows  that  he  loved  fiercely  the  niece  of 
Toleniska.  The  pale  face  came,  and  spoke  soft  words 
to  the  niece  of  Toleniska,  and  she  became  his  wife. 
But  Soquilla  was  avenged. — He  gave  to  the  fire-god 
the  child  of  the  pale  face  and  the  niece  of  Toleniska; 
and  they  thought  that  the  long- knives  of  the  white  men 
had  drank  his  blood. — Since  then  the  niece  of  Toleniska 
has  sat  in  sadness,  and  Soquilla  has  said — Revenge  is 
sweet.  But  the  child  of  the  pale  face  and  the  niece  of 
Toleniska,  escaped  from  the  embrace  of  the  fire-god, 
and  the  boy  has  come  again. — But  he  must  not  see  the 
niece  of  Toleniska,  nor  bring  gladness  to  her  heart. 
He  shall  make  his  hands  red  with  the  blood  of  the 
Leech,  and  fly  far  away  from  the  vengeance  of  the 


EONEGUSKI.  Ill 

Eonee,  and  the  night  shall  be  dark  in  the  heart  of  the 
niece  of  Toleniska — because  she  despised  the  love  of 
Soquilla." 

These  words  were  overheard  by  his  late  artful  visiter, 
who  had  lingered  near  the  wigwam,  and  they  convey- 
ed to  him  intelligible  information. 

It  was  but  a  short  time  before  day  when  Chuheluh 
regained  his  wigwam,  and  hastened  to  seek  that  repose 
for  which  the  fatigues,  induced  by  his  journey,  had  so 
well  prepared  him.  Meantime  Welch  was  tossing 
about,  and  courting,  in  vain,  the  solace  of  sleep  and 
relief  from  the  cares  which  pressed  upon  his  mind. — 
He  had  not  the  slightest  purpose  of  consummating  the 
bloody  deed  to  which  he  had  been  so  strongly  urged, 
from  quarters  so  unexpected,  but  wished,  if  possible,  to 
avoid  it,  without  having  any  cause  to  reproach  himself 
with  ingratitude  to  Santuchee,  or  any  loss  of  fame 
amongst  his  new  associates ;  and  his  great  object  in 
visiting  the  Saga  was  obtaining  such  counsel  as  might 
reconcile  these  conflicting  difficulties.  Having  fixed 
upon  this  source,  as  one  from  which  he  hoped  to  derive 
comfort,  Welch  could  obtain  no  rest  of  body  or  quiet 
of  mind  until  he  should  see  the  result  of  his  expedition. 
The  Fox  accordingly  found  him  ready,  as  soon  as  his 
own  habitually  short  slumber  had  been  completed,  to 
set  out  for  Sugar  Town. 


112  EONEGUSKI. 


CHAPTER  XII 

And  one  there  was,  around  whose  limbs  was  coil'd 
The  scaly  skin  of  a  snake  despoil'd ; 
The  jaws  by  his  cheeks  that  open  stood 
Seem'd  clogg'd  and  dripping  yet  with  blood. 

Yamoydey. 

One  generation  of  men  treat  as  the  most  childish  fol- 
lies the  superstitions  of  another,  while,  in  every  bosom, 
in  some  form  or  other,  this  mysterious  counterfeit  of 
true  Religion  has  erected  her  altar,  and  relentlessly 
demands  some  mark  of  homage.  Her  exactions  are 
increased  according  to  the  obedience  of  the  worshipper, 
and,  while  none  have  the  strength  effectually  to  escape 
her  dominion,  others  are  found  in  different  degrees 
of  servitude,  until,  steeped  in  blood  and  writhing  in 
misery,  the  most  degraded  of  her  slaves  pay  to  her  their 
ceaseless  and  maddening  devotions.  John  Welch  was 
neither  the  most  abject  slave  of  superstition,  nor  yet  one 
of  those  who  could  boast  the  greatest  exemption  from  her 
influence.  While,  therefore,  he  was  far  from  acknow- 
ledging the  extravagant  pretensions  made  for  the  Saga, 
to  preternatural  power,  it  was  not  without  a  painful 
feeling  of  awe,  approaching  to  fear,  that  he  contempla- 
ted an  interview  with  this  extraordinary  personage. 

It  was  near  meridian,  when,  in  company  with  Chu- 
heluh,  Welch  reached  the  house  of  the  Saga,  the  door  of 
which  was  closed,  both  on  account  of  the  weather  and 
the  custom  of  the  Prophet  at  every  season.  A  gentle 
rap  from  Chuheluh  was  sufficient  to  cause  the  door  to 
open  slowly,  and  the  sly  countenance  of  Wissa  to  peer 
from  behind  it.  A  single  look  was  enough  to  remove 
the  doubts  which,  it  may  be  supposed,  dictated  the  cau- 
tious proceeding  of  Wissa,  for  he  at  once  threw  the 
door  wide  on  its  clumsy  hinges,  and  signed  to  them  to 


EONEGUSKI.  113 

enter.  Chuheluh  yielded  precedence  to  Welch  as  a 
stranger,  who  started  back  in  amazement  at  the  wild 
uncouth  object,  which  would  have  been  sufficiently 
striking,  even  when  surrounded  by  all  the  wonders  of 
an  European  or  Asiatic  metropolis,  and  was,  of  course, 
tenfold  more  horrible  in  an  Indian  wigwam. 

The  Vatican  seat  on  which  the  Saga  had  placed  him- 
self, was  a  high-backed  split-bottomed  chair,  so  far  as 
Welch  was  able  to  judge  from  the  very  small  portion 
of  it  unconcealed  by  the  envelopements  and  appendages 
about  the  sacred  person.  The  snow  white  hair  of  the 
Prophet  hung  long  and  straight  over  his  dark  brown 
cheeks  and  brow  wrinkled  by  time  and  passion,  and  in 
combination  with  his  general  emaciation,  his  dull  rhue- 
my  eyes,  withered  skinny  lips,  and  almost  toothless 
gums,  gave  to  him  a  look  altogether  spectral.  These 
appearances  about  the  head  and  face  were  not  rendered 
more  agreeable  by  the  accoutrement  of  the  other  parts 
of  his  person.  Around  his  shoulders  was  thrown, 
somewhat  after  the  manner  of  a  Spanish  cloak,  the 
shaggy  skin  of  a  buffaloe,  fastened  around  his  neck  by 
tying  together  the  skins  of  the  two  fore  legs,  to  which 
the  hoofs  had  been  left  hanging  down  in  front,  as  in 
mockery  of  ornament;  an  effect  correspondent  to  which 
was  produced  by  the  tail  and  the  skins  of  the  two  hind 
legs  pendent  in  like  manner  from  the  other  extremity. 
His  breast  and  the  fore  part  of  his  body,  as  far  down 
as  the  middle,  was  covered  with  a  thick  coat  of  birds' 
feathers,  of  various  colors,  which  adhered  as  if  owing 
their  unusual  location  entirely  to  nature.  An  asenoge, 
or  petticoat,  formed  of  an  Indian  or  negro  blanket,  de- 
pended from  thence  some  distance  below  his  knees,  and 
all  of  it,  except  two  black  stripes  usually  found  near 
the  ends  of  blankets  of  that  description,  and  now  con- 
stituting a  sort  of  border  around  the  tail  of  the  asenoge, 
was  dyed  of  a  deep  scarlet  color.  The  top  part  was 
ingeniously  appended  to  the  stuffed  skins  of  two  large 
spotted  serpents,  of  the  kind  vulgarly  called  the  king 
snake,  the  necks  of  which  being  tyed  together  in  fronts 
10* 


114  EONEGUSKI. 

confined  it  to  its  place,  while  the  heads  hung  before 
with  their  red  mouths  wide  open,  disclosing-  their  fangs 
and  forked  tongues,  and  their  small  eyes  glistening  with 
the  malicious  fire  of  life.  This  garment,  probably,  had 
some  connection  with  the  name  of  the  Prophet,  which 
was  Susquanannacunahata,  or  the  Long  Blanket. 

Like  Laocoon's,  the  body  of  the  Saga  was  in  wreathed 
in  the  folds  of  two  prodigious  serpents,  of  the  constrictor 
species,  which,  creeping  around  him  in  opposite  direc- 
tions, and  passing  over  his  shoulders,  peered  out  from 
beneath  his  rough  tunic,  with  their  fiery  malignant 
eyes,  and  their  deep  red  throats  fearfully  distended,  as 
if  to  swallow  any  one  who  ventured  to  approach.  At 
the  same  time  their  forked  tongues  were  alarmingly 
projected,  while  hisses,  loud  and  incessant,  filled  the 
apartment,  mingled  with  that  horrific  sound,  conceiv- 
able only  by  those  who  have  heard  it  made  by  the  rattle- 
snake with  his  characteristic  appendage.  To  complete 
the  equipment  of  the  Saga,  nothing  further  need  be 
mentioned,  save  that  his  lower  extremities  were  en- 
cased in  the  common  buck-skin  leggins  and  moccasins 
of  the  Indian,  while,  to  exclude  the  idea  of  his  power  of 
doing  mischief  being  altogether  imaginary,  a  rifle  of 
most  extraordinary  length  and  size  was  leaning  beside 
him. 

Welch  looked  round,  with  the  purpose  of  retreat,  and 
found  himself  alone  in  the  wigwam  with  this  vision  of 
terror.  To  add  to  his  painful  situation,  numbers  of  the 
smaller  objects  of  human  aversion,  such  as  the  lizard, 
the  toad,  the  newt,  the  spider,  the  ear-wig,  the  earth 
worm,  the  snail,  and  bugs  and  other  insects  of  various 
sorts  and  sizes,  were  creeping  about  the  wigwam.  In 
none  of  them,  it  was  true,  did  the  principle  of  life  seem 
very  active  :  they  had  evidently  been  roused  into  partial 
sensibility  from  the  torpor  proper  to  their  natures  at 
that  season.  But  it  was  impossible  to  say  how  much 
farther  the  terrible  being  might  go,  who  had  already  so 
far  triumphed  over  the  laws  of  nature,  should  it  suit  his 
purposes.     A  cold  shuddering  sensation  passed   over 


EONEGUSKI.  115 

Welch,  when  he  perceived  that  the  door  was  fastened, 
and,  as  he  did  not  discover  how,  there  was  a  distress- 
ing- apprehension  that-  any  attempt  he  should  make  to 
open  it  might  be  altogether  fruitless. 

Meantime,  the  hissing  and  rattling  which  had  subsi- 
ded for  an  instant,  burst  forth  with  augmented  shrill- 
ness. He  knew  not  what  to  do,  and  doubted  whether 
to  speak  or  remain  silent.  Another  dying  fall  was  com- 
ing on  in  the  inharmonious  music,  when  the  Prophet 
began  to  rock  himself  from  side  to  side  in  his  chair, 
with  the  regularity  of  a  pendulum,  and  to  chaunt  a 
wild  strain,  which,  as  we  are  no  admirers  of  rhythm, 
without  rhyme,  we  have  endeavored  to  paraphrase,  as 
follows : — 


Dark  shadows  o'er  the  Saga's  soul 
Pass  like  the  clouds  athwart  the  sky ; 
The  future,  like  a  written  scroll, 
He  reads  with  dim  prophetic  eye. 

Mortal,  wouldst  thou  secrets  know, 
By  the  Great  Spirit  darkly  trac'd  ; 
Come,  while  the  Saga's  pale  lips  flow 
With  words  prophetic. — Mortal  haste. 

Haste  ;  nor  fear  the  hissing  snake, 
The  lizard,  toad,  nor  swelt'ring  newt ; 
The  winds  of  Heaven  now  fiercely  shake 
The  tree  where  hangs  instruction's  fruit. 

Come,  gather  the  fruit  as  it  falls  to  the  ground  ; 
While  wisdom  is  speaking,  come  list  to  the  sound  ; 
The  Saga's  soul  swells  with  a  thought  full  of  fear — 
'Tis  of  that  idle  mortal  thou  waitest  to  hear. 

Cast  a  look  on  thy  hand,  thou  wilt  see  it  blood  red  ; — 

Beside  thee,  a  son  of  Eonee  lies  dead  ; 

The  deed  is  inscribed  in  the  record  of  fate — 

That  deed  must  be  finished — then  why  dost  thou  wait  ? 

But  hark  !  the  wild  spirit  of  Cheasquah  cries  out 
Like  a  joyful  young  brave,  with  his  fierce  battle  shout ; 
He  spreads  out  his  wings  for  the  land  of  the  blest, 
In  glory  to  join  with  his  fathers  at  rest. 


116  EONEGUSKI. 

The  soul  of  Santuchee  no  longer  bends  low  ; — 
His  hand  once  again  rests  in  strength  on  his  bow  ; 
The  tears  which  Wattuna  wept  warm  o'er  her  son 
Have  ceas'd  ;  and  smiles  follow,  for  vengeance  is  done. 

If  Welch  was  painfully  affected  by  what  he  saw  and 
heard  previously,  what  a  vast  increase  of  distress  must 
he  have  experienced,  when,  hearing-  this  unearthly 
being  chiming;  in  with  Santuchee  and  Chuheluh,  and 
urging  him  to  the  commission  of  a  deed  against  which 
all  his  feelings  revolted  1  Nor  was  it  less  appalling  to 
find  the  thoughts  of  his  heart,  thus  known  and  alluded 
to,  without  either  question  or  prompting.  He  threw 
himself  at  the  feet  of  the  Saga — "  Dread  Being,"  he 
exclaimed,  "  tell  me,  I  adjure  you,  by  what  means  the 
secrets  of  my  heart  have  been  laid  open,  and  how  you 
became  acquainted  with  the  subject  upon  which  I  have 
come  to  apply  to  you  for  counsel  ?" 

The  Prophet  paused  for  a  moment,  as  if  to  recollect 
himself,  and  then  commenced  rocking  to  and  fro,  as 
before,  when  the  poetic  tide  began  again  to  flow  : — 

Spirit  who  waits  on  the  Saga's  call, 
Come,  oh  come,  from  thy  cloudy  hall, 
And  tell  to  the  mortal,  who  asks  to  know, 
Who  secret  things  to  the  Seer  doth  show  ? 

There  was  a  pause  of  a  moment,  and  a  voice  in 
another  tone  and  manner  responded: — 

The  naked  Spirit  flies  through  ocean,  earth,  and  skies  ; 

It  rides  upon  the  storm  in  a  cherub's  viewless  form ; 

In  the  zephyr's  gentle  breath  it  sweeps  o'er  hill  and  heath ; 

In  the  sun's  meridian  ray,  unseen,  it  loves  to  play  ; 

In  the  silver  moon-beam  bright  it  joys  to  sport  at  night ; 

There  is  nothing  done  by  men  without  the  Spirit's  ken  ; 

And  all  it  swiftly  bears  to  the  ancient  Saga's  ears. 

"  Trifle  not  with  the  credulity  of  a  poor  mortal," 
said  Welch;  "drive  him  not  to  madness,  by  filling  his 
soul  with  thy  terrors.  I  came  not  to  consult  the  powers 
of  an  invisible  world,  but  to  bow  before  one  of  my  own 


EONEGUSKI.  117 

race,  to  whom  age  hath  given  wisdom,  and  ask  his 
advice  in  matters  by  which  I  am  greatly  perplexed." 

The  Saga  was  now  still,  and  his  lips  appeared  not  to 
move,  but  Welch  distinctly  heard,  as  if  it  proceeded 
from  his  chest,  what  follows : — 

Wretch  profane  !   who  dares  to  tread 

The  sacred  floor,  where  Spirits  walk  ; 
Ruin  hovers  o'er  thy  head, 

As,  o'er  the  bird,  the  furnished  hawk. 

Hence  !  nor  tempt  the  Saga's  rage  ; — 

Question  not  his  magic  pow'r ; 
Wisdom  falls  from  lips  of  age  ; 

This  is  inspiration's  hour. 

Hence  !  nor  dare  to  question  more  ; 

Thou  hast  heard  the  doom  of  fate  ; 
Pass  again  the  charmed  door ; 

Let  thy  bosom  swell  with  hate. 

Vengeance  to  thy  bosom  take — 

Cherish  her  with  pious  care  ; 
Thoughts  congenial  there  awake  ; 

For  deeds  of  blood  thy  soul  prepare. 

Grasp  the  rifle — bare  the  knife  ; 

Take  the  war-club,  stain'd  with  gore  ; 
Wait  not  for  the  equal  strife, 

But  quickly  say,  "  He  lives  no  more." 

Then  fly  thee  again  to  the  white  man's  home, 
Where  the  red  man's  vengeance  dare  not  come  ; 

And  there,  in  gloomy  patience  wait 

What  more  remains  of  the  doom  of  fate. 

"  Is  pity  to  be  found  no  where  ?"  said  Welch,  plain- 
tively. "  In  the  land  of  the  white  man  the  ministers 
of  the  Great  Spirit  are  ever  the  friends  of  peace,  and  to 
them  I  have  heard,  the  distressed  and  broken-heart- 
ed never  apply  in  vain  for  consolation.  Does  not  the 
Great  Spirit  demand  peace  among  the  red  men,  as  well 
as  among  the  white  ?  And  ought  not  the  prophets  of 
the  red  men,  like  the  priests  of  the  white,  to  be  a  refuge 


118  EONEGTJSKI. 

from  the  evil  spirit,  when  he  whispers  thoughts  of  dark- 
ness to  the  soul  of  the  unhappy  V 

The  Saga  once  more  began  to  rock  himself,  and 
speak  to  the  effect  following : — 

Come  lion  spirit,  come  and  pour- 
In  fierce  wild  torrents  bid  them  roll — 

Thoughts,  which  shall  valor  rouse  once  more 
Upon  the  trembling  coward's  soul. 

All  fill'd  with  passions  fierce  and  bold, 
Give  him  again  the  red  man's  heart ; 

Or  press  the  drop  out  pale  and  cold 
Infus'd  there  by  the  white  man's  art. 

The  hoarse  growl  of  a  lion  now  seemed  to  come 
from  beneath  the  seat  of  the  Saga,  and  again,  Avhile 
he  forbore  to  rock  himself,  and  his  lips  were  motion- 
less, words  to  the  following  effect  proceeded  from  his 
chest : — 

In  haste  from  distant  lands  I  come, 

Obedient  to  the  Saga's  call ; 
I  leave  my  sandy  desert  home 

To  loose  thee  Valor  from  thy  thrall. 

Come,  rouse  thee  from  thy  leaden  sleep  ; 

Let  pale-faced  Fear  before  thee  fly  ; 
Let  Mercy  cease  weak  tears  to  weep ; 

No  more  in  rest  inglorious  lie. 

Why  should  the  women  raise  the  song, 

And  taunting  ask,  where  Cheasquah  lies  ; 
"  Squaws  only  to  his  race  belong," 
They  sing  ;  "his  blood  for  vengeance  cries. 

"  Cheasquah  can  never  chase  the  deer — 

"  A  spirit  o'er  the  Elysian  plains, 
"  Until  a  fierce  young  brave  appear, 

"  Who  boasts  his  blood  within  his  veins. 

"  Henceforth  will  ne'er  be  seen  again 
"  Santuchee's  blood  in  war  or  chase  ; 

"  No  Indian  maid  will  ever  deign 
"  To  match  with  his  degraded  race." 


EONEGUSKI.  119 

"  This  is  too  much,"  said  Welch,  rising  from  his  re- 
cumbent posture. — "  You  will  drive  me  to  madness." 

The  hissing  and  rattling  now  recommenced  with 
increased  fury,  and,  intermingled  with  them,  were  arti- 
culate sounds,  which  appeared  to  come  from  a  dis- 
tance. 

Coward  begone 

From  the  wizard's  home  ! 
Warriors  alone, 

Or  the  brave,  there  come. 

But  slaves  like  thee, 

With  a  white  man's  heart, 
He  scorns  to  see  ; 

So  in  haste  depart. 

The  Saga's  scorn 

Henceforth  shall  pursue, 
From  e'en  to  morn, 

Such  a  wretch  as  you. 

The  door  opes  wide — 

Haste — quickly  away  ! 
Thy  doom  is  tri'd ; 

Then  why  dost  thou  stay  ? 

The  door  grated  on  its  hinges,  and,  hopeless  of 
gathering  any  thing  comfortable,  Welch,  in  obedience 
to  the  intimation  he  had  received,  retreated  from  the 
wigwam,  like  many  wiser  men,  with  his  malady  much 
increased  through  the  unwise  means  to  which  he  had 
resorted  for  a  cure.  He  had  scarcely  passed  the  thresh- 
old of  the  Prophet's  residence,  with  trembling  knees 
and  tottering  footsteps,  when  a  heavy  and  unusually 
long  war-club,  apparently  cast  away  by  accident,  invited 
him  to  take  it  up,  as  a  support  in  walking.  He  ac- 
cepted the  invitation,  and  with  a  countenance  wildly 
staring,  passed  on,  he  knew  not  whither.  His  mind 
had  been  too  deeply  agitated  to  think  of  inquiries  con- 
cerning his  parentage,  and  was  now  so  unsettled  as  to 
be  scarcely  conscious  of  the  absence  of  his  companion 
Chuheluh.     But  he  had  not  proceeded  far,  when  he 


120  EONEGUSKI. 

discovered  him  in  conversation  with  another  Indian,  and 
both  were  evidently  much  excited.  Welch  was  natu- 
rally attracted  towards  them,  and,  as  he  approached, 
heard  the  Fox  saying — "  Chuheluh  is  old,  and  the 
Leech  is  yet  in  the  prime  of  life. — Would  the  Leech 
slay  Chuheluh,  as  he  did  Cheasquah'?" 

"  What  is  Cheasquah  to  you 2"  said  the  Leech-:  "Art 
thou  not  an  Eonee,  base  wretch  as  thou  art?  Let  any 
of  the  race  of  Cheasquah,"  continued  the  excited  In- 
dian, "  ask  the  Leech  for  his  blood — he  is  ready  to 
answer  him  ;"  looking  fiercely  towards  John  Welch. 

"  I  am  here,"  said  Welch,  in  a  state  approaching  the 
very  confines  of  madness,  "  and  I  belong  to  the  race  of 
Cheasquah." 

"  Liar  !"  said  the  Leech,  "  thou  art  one  of  the  pale 
faces ;  the  race  of  Santuchee  are  women;  but  I  despise 
a  pale  face  more  than  a  woman." 

"  Dost  thou  despise  me  ?"  said  Welch  ;  "  Dost  thou 
despise  the  gray  hairs  of  Santuchee  ?" 
"  I  do,"  replied  the  Leech. 

"  It  is  enough!"  said  Welch. — "  It  is  mine  to  take 
vengeance  for  the  blood  of  Cheasquah,  and  for  the 
wrong  done  to  the  gray  hairs  of  Santuchee." 

He  slung  the  war-club  with  his  whole  force,  and  the 
Leech  lay  at  his  feet  weltering  in  blood. 

Welch  stood  petrified  with  horror,  like  Cain,  the  first 
murderer,  when  Heaven's  vicegerent  in  his  own  bosom, 
demanded  of  him,  in  those  accents  more  awful  than  the 
vollied  thunder,  "  Where  is  thy  brother  ?" 

There  was  commotion  in  Sugar  Town.  Its  inha- 
bitants ran  together  to  the  bloody  scene,  and  amongst 
them  came  a  young  female,  in  affright  and  agony  of 
spirit.  She  ran  to  the  dying  man — threw  herself  on 
the  ground  beside  him,  and  placed  his  head  upon  her 
lap — she  called  wildly  his  name,  and  anon  entreated 
him  in  the  most  moving  accents,  to  speak  to  her.  But 
alike  vain  were  both  her  cries  and  her  intreaties — a  seal 
had  been  placed  upon  those  lips,  which  even  the  spell 
of  love  could  not  remove.      Nothing  was  left  to  the 


EONEGUSKI.  121 

poor  Indian  maiden  but  to  use  all  her  simple  art  to 
smooth  the  passage  of  the  spirit  of  her  young-  warrior 
from  its  bloody  tenement.  The  crowd  of  spectators  were 
gratified  by  that  deed  of  blood  which  was  not  to  many 
of  them  entirely  unexpected,  and  by  which  a  long  desired 
revenge  was  accomplished.  But  the  joy  which  lighted 
up  all  other  countenances,  kindled  not  in  the  heart 
of  the  desolate  maiden,  who  ever  and  anon  tenderly 
wiped  away  from  the  lips  of  the  dying  man  the  bloody 
froth  which  bubbled  from  between  them.  For  Welch, 
therefore,  there  seemed  little  cause  to  apprehend  im- 
mediate ill  consequences  for  what  he  had  done ;  but 
far  other  thoughts  than  those  of  present  personal 
danger  weighed  upon  his  heart,  and  banished  every 
purpose  of  flight. 

How  long  he  would  have  remained  like  a  fixed 
statue,  contemplating  the  dying  agonies  of  the  Leech, 
it  is  impossible  to  say;  but  he  was  waked  from  his 
reverie  by  Chuheluh,  entreating  him  earnestly  to  fly. 
"  The  avenger  of  blood  is  behind  you,"  he  said,  "and 
will  soon  be  upon  you — fly  then,  while  the  cry  of  the 
hunter  is  yet  at  a  distance. — Fly,"  continued  he,  "to  the 
white  settlements,  for  there  is  no  more  safety  for  Welch 
among  the  Cherokees." 

Chuheluh  was  confident  that  the  bereaved  maiden 
would  be  anxious,  as  soon  as  the  life  had  departed  from 
tlie  Leech,  to  put  some  avenger  upon  the  track  of  the 
slayer,  and  dropped  the  last  expression  as  a  ruse,  for  he 
was  far  from  designing  that  Welch  should  fly  to  the 
white  settlements.  Meantime  he  continued  to  lead  him 
away,  until  they  were  out  of  sight  of  Sugar  Town, 
when  he  took  a  direction  precisely  opposite  to  that 
he  had  indicated.  They  were  scarcely  gone,  before  the 
arrival  of  Eoneguski,  whose  part  in  the  matter  has  been 
already  described  by  himself. 

We  have  thus  seen  several  persons  variously  contri- 
buting to  bring  Welch  into  his  present  difficulty,  but 
they  were  all  actuated  by  different  motives.    Santuchee 

VOL.  I. 1 1. 


122  EONEGUSKI. 

disclosed  his  in  the  very  act  of  soliciting  Welch  to  the 
deed  of  blood — a  sincere  and  undisguised  desire  to  be 
revenged  on  the  murderer  of  his  son,  as  well  in  obe- 
dience to  the  dictates  of  untutored  nature,  as  a  sense  of 
duty,  according  to  the  notions  concerning  it  in  which 
he  had  been  brought  up.  The  Prophet  had  motives 
personal  to  himself,  in  desiring  to  have  Welch  expelled 
from  the  Indian  country,  and  gladly  laid  hold  of  the 
occasion  presented,  of  exerting  all  his  skill  as  a  conjurer, 
to  spur  him  on  to  the  perpetration  of  a  deed  which 
would  probably  cause  his  death,  or  compel  him  to  fly 
from  the  Indian  country.  Chuheluh  wished  the  death 
of  the  Leech,  for  reasons  which  have  been  already  men- 
tioned, and,  in  the  advancement  of  his  purpose,  had  used 
Welch  as  an  instrument,  and  taken  every  means  in  his 
power  to  fashion  him  to  the  end.  It  was  for  this,  after 
having  exhausted  upon  him  all  his  own  artful  logic, 
that  he  brought  him  within  reach  of  the  fascinations  of 
the  Saga.  He  designedly  suffered  Welch  to  precede  him 
on  their  arrival  at  the  wigwam,  knowing  that  he  himself 
would  be  excluded  upon  the  entrance  of  the  first  visiter. 
If  the  Saga  succeeded  in  affecting  the  mind  of  Welch, 
according  to  his  hopes  and  expectations,  the  Fox  was 
fully  aware  of  the  advantage  to  be  derived  from  the 
readiness  of  a  suitable  weapon,  and  accordingly  placed 
the  war-club  in  the  tempting  situation  in  which  it  was 
found  by  Welch.  This  he  did,  anticipating  what 
happened  most  favorably  for  the  plans  of  the  tempt- 
ers of  the  unfortunate  man,  that  the  Leech  was  attract- 
ed to  Sugar  Town,  on  this  very  day,  by  his  ill-fated 
attachment  to  the  girl  whom  we  saw  administering  to 
him,  with  so  much  solicitude,  in  his  death  struggle. 
Their  affection  was  mutual,  and  had  been  of  long  stand- 
ing, but  Cheasquah  had  also  been  a  suiter  to  the  maiden, 
and  was  the  favorite  of  her  parents,  as  the  only  son  of 
Santuchee,  their  chief,  and  the  probable  heir  of  his  pro- 
perty and  honors.  This  rivalry  made  the  two  suiters 
prompt  to  engage  in  a  quarrel,  which  terminated  fatally 


EONEGUSKI.  123 

for  Cheasquah,  and  stirred  up  a  vengeance  no  less  fatal 
to  the  other :  and  thus  did  the  poor  girl  prove  the  inno- 
cent cause  of  the  death  of  both  her  lovers. 

The  death  of  Cheasquah  had  of  course  interrupted 
all  correspondence  between  the  Leech  and  his  sweet- 
heart, but  they  had  recently  renewed  it  with  increased 
tenderness.  They  nattered  themselves  that  the  cloud 
which  had  hung  so  long  and  threateningly  over  their 
prospects,  had  passed  away — that  age  had  extinguished 
the  fire  of  Santuchee,  and  that  no  one  else,  since  so  many 
moons  had  gone  by,  would  care  to  avenge  the  blood  of 
Cheasquah.  Filled  with  these  cheering  hopes,  the 
Leech  was  making  his  way  to  the  object  of  his  love, 
when  he  met  with  the  Fox,  with  whom  we  have  already 
seen  he  was  at  perpetual  strife.  The  Fox  hailed  the 
expected  and  auspicious  event,  and  contrived  to  provoke 
the  Leech,  by  referring  to  the  arrival  of  an  avenger  for 
the  slaughtered  Cheasquah.  Insulting  language  passed 
between  them,  and  they  had  both  become  much  excited 
when  the  Fox  perceiving  Welch  approaching,  in  a 
state  bordering  on  madness,  adroitly  brought  back  the 
conversation  to  the  death  of  Cheasquah.  The  Leech 
had  heard  of  the  adopted  son  of  Santuchee,  and  the? 
speculations  idly  bandied  about,  that  he  might  attempt 
the  long  deferred  vengeance  of  his  family,  and  accord- 
ingly bore  himself  towards  him  with  that  appearance 
of  bullying  contempt,  so  natural  to  the  situation  in 
which  he  was  placed,  and  thus  brought  on  a  catas- 
trophe which  might  otherwise  have  been  avoided. 


124  EONEGUSKI. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


A  price  upon  his  houseless  head. — 

Oh !  his  are  wrongs,  that,  but  with  death 

From  burning  memory  can  depart ; 

All  the  pure  waters  of  the  faith 

Could  wash  them  ne'er  from  human  heart. 

Yamoyden. 

It  is  consolatory  to  believe  that  there  is  truth  in  that 
beautiful  sentence  in  Byron,  "  None  are  all  evil,"  &c; 
and  that,  amid  the  rank  weeds  of  depravity,  by  which 
many  hearts  are  overrun,  there  is  always  some  flower 
of  excellence  flourishing  in  unusual  beauty.  Man  is 
not  like  the  devils,  given  over  to  unqualified  depravity, 
he  is  only  "very  far  gone  from  original  righteousness ;" 
and,  in  the  confusion  of  his  moral  wreck,  there  are 
here  and  there  some  rich  portions  of  the  property  of 
Heaven,  with  which  his  vessel  was  in  the  beginning  so 
abundantly  freighted. 

Chuheluh  was  ambitious  and  vain,  vindictive,  dis- 
honest, and  artful,  but  he  was  brave,  and  would  undergo 
no  less  toil  and  danger  to  discharge  an  admitted  debt 
of  gratitude,  than  he  would  to  resent  an  injury  he 
had  either  sustained  or  imagined.  Having  therefore 
achieved  his  object  through  the  instrumentality  of 
Welch,  he  was  seriously  desirous  to  avert  from  his  in- 
strument the  more  immediate  and  dangerous  conse- 
quences of  his  act,  and  was  accordingly  conducting  him 
towards  the  Unaka,  or  Unacoy  Mountain,  with  the  in- 
tention of  finding  a  retreat  for  him  at  old  Chota,  among 
the  Overhill  Cherokees.  They  had  not  progressed  far, 
however,  before  the  mind  of  Welch  began  to  act  for 
itself,  and  a  longing  desire  seized  upon  it  to  return  to 
the  scenes  of  his  childhood,  and  he  felt  that  his  consci- 
ence would  be  eased  of  half  its  burden,  and  his  person 


EONEGUSKI.  125 

relieved  from  more  than  half  its  danger,  if  he  could 
once  more  breathe  an  atmosphere  sanctified  by  the 
presence  of  Atha  Aymor. 

"  Chuheluh  is  leading  John  Welch,"  he  first  broke 
silence,  "where  his  back  is  upon  the  mid-day  sun," — 
pointing  at  the  same  time  towards  the  south — "he  must 
go  in  that  direction  in  which  his  face  will  meet  it  as  it 
rises  in  the  morning,  over  the  Cowee  Mountain." 

"  Why  will  the  young  man  throw  away  his  life?" 
replied  the  Fox.  "  Did  I  not  say  that  Chuheluh  is 
wise? — he  will  lead  the  young  man  to  a  place  of 
safety." 

"  There  is  but  one  place  of  safety  for  John  Welch," 
he  said,  "  and  that  is  far  away  over  the  Cowee  Moun- 
tain." 

"  Thither  the  men  of  Eonee  will  pursue  thee,"  re- 
plied the  Fox,  "  and  the  young  man  will  fall  by  their 
rifles,  as  the  deer  which  bounds  among  the  cliffs, 
thoughtless  of  danger;  but  let  my  brother  follow  the 
steps  of  Chuheluh,  and  he  will  lead  him  where  he  may 
lie  down  like  the  cautious  stag,  among  the  thick  woven 
ivy,  where  the  keen  eye  of  the  hunter  cannot  pierce." 

"  John  Welch  is  the  stag,  in  whose  side  the  arrow  of 
the  hunter  is  already  fastened;  he  pants  for  the  cool 
streams  of  his  far  away  home;  let  him  take  a  last  re- 
freshing draught  from  their  limpid  currents,  and  lie 
down  beside  them  and  die." 

"  Let  cowards  die  !"  said  the  Fox;  "but  John  Welch 
is  a  brave  man,  and  he  will  fight  against  death  like 
another  enemy,  and  when  he  can  resist  him  no  longer, 
then,  and  not  till  then,  will  he  give  up  and  say — I  am 
not  afraid." 

"  It  is  not  the  fear  of  death  which  is  heavy  on  my 
soul,"  replied  Welch;  "I  fear  the  Great  Spirit,  it  is 
true,  but  he  knows  the  hearts  of  his  children,  and  will 
pity  them.  But  I  have  done  wickedly,  and  the  faces  of 
those  I  love  will  be  dark  when  they  hear  it.  I  will 
go  back  to  them  and  ask  their  forgiveness  and  die." 

Long  and  warm  was  the  struggle  between  the  Fox 
11* 


126  EONEGUSKI. 

and  his  protege ;  the  former  to  prevent,  and  the  latter  to 
urge,  his  return  to  the  settlements.  At  length  Welch 
remarked,  "  I  must  go. — It  was  the  word  of  the  Pro- 
phet, who  bade  me  slay  the  Leech,  that  I  should  fly  to 
the  home  of  the  white  man,  and  there  I  should  be  safe 
from  the  vengeance  of  the  red.  Urge  me  no  further, 
it  is  my  fate." 

"  It  is  enough,"  said  the  Fox,  "Go ! — Let  us  obey  the 
voice  of  the  Great  Prophet,  for  he  utters  words  of  wis- 
dom! But  you  go  not  alone.  Chuheluh  will  guide 
your  returning  footsteps  to  the  white  settlements,  and 
you  shall  be  safe  from  the  Eonee,  for  Chuheluh  is 
wise." 

They  now  turned  hastily  in  a  direction  nearly  at 
right  angles  with  the  one  they  had  been  pursuing,  the 
Fox  leading,  and  Welch  closely  following  him.  Little 
discourse,  however,  passed  between  them,  each  being 
seemingly  engaged  in  his  own  reflections,  until  the  sun 
began  to  sink  behind  the  Nantahala  Mountains.  As 
its  broad  red  disk  rested  for  an  instant  upon  the  very 
summit  of  the  ridge,  it  caught  the  eye  of  Welch,  and  a 
deep  sigh  escaped  him. 

"  The  thoughts  of  my  brother  are  sad,"  said  the  Fox, 
stopping  suddenly,  and  looking  full  upon  him. 

"  They  are  sad,"  replied  Welch — "  For  the  first  time 
yon  sun  is  leaving  John  Welch  to  the  gloom  of  a 
night  whose  shades  are  thickened  by  the  consciousness 
of  guilt.  This  morning  I  welcomed  him  as  a  visiter 
from  the  land  of  shadows,  full  of  the  smiles  of  love 
and  happiness,  sent  by  the  Great  Spirit  to  his  children. 
Now  he  is  bearing  back  those  treasures  in  seeming 
sadness,  and  leaving  desolate  that  world  which  was 
unworthy  to  enjoy  them,  and  especially  from  me — 
wretched  me — to  whom  they  may  never  return.  This 
morning  its  beams  were  reflected  by  the  cheerful 
glances  of  the  Leech  and  the  Indian  maiden,  full  of 
the  happy  thought  that  his  rays  would  light  them  to 
each  other.  Now  they  fall  upon  the  heavy  sightless 
lids  of  the  Leech,  and  the  dark  tearful  lashes  of  the 


EONEGUSKI. 


127 


maiden.  To-morrow  he  will  come  again,  but  he  will 
bring  no  joy  to  the  eye  of  the  maiden — no  warmth  to 
the  heart  of  the  Leech.  He  will  chase  away  the 
shadows  of  the  night,  which  are  now  gathering  around 
us,  but  he  will  not  chase  away  the  shadows  of  guilt — 
he  will  not  bring  again  the  light  of  innocence  to  the 
heart  of  John  Welch." 

"  Umph,"  said  the  Fox,  contemptuously,  and  walked 
on. 

There  was  a  religious  pathos  in  the  language  of 
Welch,  the  Fox  did  not  exactly  comprehend,  and  he 
was  provoked  to  see  that  Welch  was  so  obstinately 
bent  upon  being  miserable,  while  he  was  industriously 
engaged  in  providing  for  his  safety.  Besides,  it  was 
a  cutting  reproof  to  himself,  as  the  principal  author  of 
this  complicated  ruin,  over  which  Welch  was  so  feelingly 
lamenting. 

When  it  was  quite  dark  they  found  themselves  in  the 
midst  of  a  thick  morass,  where  the  evergreens,  cluster- 
ing around  and  amongst  the  close  growth  of  other  tim- 
ber now  stripped  of  its  foliage,  furnished  a  tolerable 
nocturnal  retreat  from  pursuit,  however  illy  it  might 
have  served  that  purpose  in  the  day  time. 

"  Here,"  said  the  Fox,  "  we  are  not  far  from  Eonee. 
We  shall  require  meal  and  a  gourd — Chuheluh  will  go 
and  fetch  them — Let  the  young  man  wait  his  return." 

"  Will  you  not  betray  me  to  the  Eonee  ?"  inquired 
Welch,  anxiously. 

"  Why  should  I  ?"  replied  the  Fox ;  u  have  I  not  told 
you  I  loved  not  the  Leech?" 

So  saying,  he  waited  not  a  reply  from  Welch,  whom 
he  left  in  no  enviable  condition,  either  of  mind  or  body. 
Standing  in  a  cold  marshy  piece  of  ground,  (the  damp- 
ness of  which  to  be  sure  was  somewhat  diminished  by 
its  partially  frozen  state,)  oppressed  with  the  conscious- 
ness of  a  crime  to  which  he  had  been  most  strangely 
and  fatally  lead — without  security  that  one  of  those  who 
had  been  most  instrumental  in  leading  him  to  its  per- 
petration, would  not  avail  himself  of  his  power  of  betray- 


126  EONEGUSKI. 

ing  him  into  the  hands  of  those  who  were  probably 
already  in  pursuit,  with  purposes  of  vengeance — expo- 
sed to  the  accidental  encounter  of  some  human  wander- 
er, whose  curiosity  might  be  as  fatal  to  him  as  a  more 
ferocious  passion — or  to  the  visit  of  some  famished  bear 
or  panther,  whose  hunger  might  impel  him  to  deeds  of 
unwonted  boldness — had  Welch  to  chew  the  cud  of  bit- 
ter fancy,  unmixed  with  sweetness. 

"  Oh !  Atha  Aymor,"  he  exclaimed  internally,  "  into 
what  troubles  have  I  been  precipitated  by  my  ill-fated 
passion.  For  how  many  years  wert  thou  the  sunshine 
of  happiness  upon  my  path.  Pursuing  by  its  holy 
light  the  visions  of  hope,  my  feet  pressed  not  upon  the 
thorns  of  guilt.  But  a  cloud  has  passed  between  us, 
and  I  have  wandered  in  darkness,  beset  with  dangers 
and  difficulties.  Blindly  flying  from  sorrow,  I  have 
fallen  upon  guilt,  and  am  pierced  to  agony  by  its  stings. 
Weak  and  exhausted,  let  me  once  more  find  thee — -let 
me  hear  thy  lips  pronounce  the  assurance  of  forgive- 
ness, and  I  will  lie  down  in  quiet,  and  the  heart  of 
John  Welch  will  be  still  forever." 

In  reflections  such  as  these,  time  passed  on,  until  all 
the  painful  circumstances  of  his  situation  were  enhanced 
by  duration.  At  length  he  heard  bold  firm  steps  advan- 
cing towards  him,  as  they  crumpled  the  frozen  leaves, 
and  shattered  the  thin  ice  with  which  the  little  water 
puddles  were  coated.  The  crisis  of  his  fate  seemed  now 
approaching;  and  that  life,  which  he  had  just  before 
so  coolly  thought  of  resigning,  regained  in  his  esti- 
mation its  original  value,  and  he  felt  instinctively  he 
would  do  much  to  preserve  it.  But  what  could  he  do"? 
Flight  was  now  hopeless,  and  to  attempt  it  would  but 
attract  with  certainty  the  notice  of  this  nocturnal  travel- 
ler. Welch  was  entirely  without  weapons,  for  even  the 
war-club,  the  instrument  of  his  violence,  had  been  left 
at  Sugar  Town,  to  witness  against  him  by  the  blood 
upon  it.  His  only  plan  then  was,  by  perfect  silence,  to 
avail  himself  of  the  security  against  detection,  afforded 
by  night  and  the  thickness  of  his  swampy  retreat.    But 


EONEGUSKI.  129 

the  very  necessity  for  silence  seemed  to  stir  his  heart 
to  such  violent  throbbing-,  that  its  sound  alone  might 
have  attracted  an  ear  of  any  quickness.  But  this  was 
not  all — he  became  more  keenly  sensible  of  the  chil- 
liness of  the  night,  and  the  excited  muscles  began  to 
quiver,  until  they  caused  his  teeth  to  rattle,  as  though 
he  were  in  an  ague  fit. 

About  one  hundred  yards  from  the  place  of  his  con- 
cealment the  Tennessee  River  was  gushing  along,  and 
reflecting  from  its  rippled  bosom  the  numerous  stars  of 
a  winter  night ;  and  through  the  openings  in  the  bushes, 
by  which  he  was  surrounded,  Welch  caught  glimpses 
here  and  there  of  a  portion  of  its  stream.  Endeavor- 
ing, in  obedience  to  that  very  feeling  which  had  stirred 
them  into  action,  to  silence  those  noisy  indications  of 
fear,  already  mentioned,  they  became  more  violent,  and 
the  hair  of  his  flesh  rose  up  as  he  perceived,  between 
him  and  the  river,  immediately  opposite  one  of  those 
openings,  in  the  shrubbery,  the  distinctly  marked 
outline  of  an  Indian  warrior,  with  his  rifle  on  his 
shoulder.  At  that  instant,  in  the  excitement  of  interest- 
ed observation,  Welch  threw  more  weight  than  had 
hitherto  rested  upon  his  forward  leg,  and  caused  some 
portion  of  his  unsure  footing  to  give  way,  with  consi- 
derable noise.  Quick  as  thought  was  the  click  of  the 
Indian's  rifle,  as  he  checked  his  onward  career,  and 
turned  his  face  in  the  direction  of  Welch.  But  the 
latter  could  not  distinguish  any  feature.  All  that  he 
could  perceive  as  he  stood  between  him  and  the  bright 
water  which  flowed  at  his  back,  was  the  clear  outline 
of  the  warrior  and  his  rifle,  as  though  they  had  been 
cut  out  of  some  opaque  body,  and  fixed  upon  a  bright 
luminous  ground.  After  a  moment's  pause,  "  Humph !" 
muttered  the  Indian  to  himself,  "it  is  nothing,"  and  pur- 
sued his  way.  He  passed  on,  and  gave  Welch  an  oppor- 
tunity of  drawing  a  long  breath,  and  relieving  his  lungs 
from  the  pressure  of  the  air,  which  his  half  suppressed 
respiration  had  kept  for  some  time  confined. 

Presently  he  heard  a  voice ;  it  was  Eoneguski's — 


130  EONEGUSKI. 

"  The  Leech  is  dead,"  he  said,  mournfully.  "  Umph !" 
replied  the  person  addressed,  "  When  did  he  die  t?? 

"  The  sun  when  it  rose,"  replied  the  first  speaker, 
"  laughed  joyously  in  the  face  of  the  Leech,  it  went 
down  in  sadness  upon  the  last  sleep  of  the  young  war- 
rior." 

"Was  he  struck  by  men,  or  the  Great  Spirit?"  in- 
quired the  second  speaker,  in  which  Welch  recognised 
the  voice  of  the  Fox. 

"  The  hand  of  the  murderer  is  red  with  his  blood," 
replied  Eoneguski ;  "the  red  man  has  died  by  the  hand 
of  the  pale  face." 

"  Show  me  his  path,"  with  well  affected  excitement, 
said  the  Fox,  "and  Chuheluh  will  avenge  the  blood  of 
the  Leech." 

"  Chuheluh  must  not  go,"  said  Eoneguski;  "Eone- 
guski is  not  a  woman.  They  must  not  ask  Eoneguski 
where  is  the  blood  of  the  Leech". 

"  It  is  well;"  said  the  Fox. — "  Who  is  the  pale  faced 
murderer,  and  whither  will  Eoneguski  go  in  search  of 
him?" 

"  It  is  John  Welch,"  replied  Eoneguski,  "  he  hath 
fled  to  the  white  settlements ;  but  the  foot  of  Eoneguski 
is  swift,  and  his  aim  is  sure ;  and  Welch  ishall  fall  among 
the  pale  faces,  like  the  stag  among  the  herd  of  deer,  and 
none  shall  see  the  hunter  whose  shaft  has  drank  his 
blood." 

"  It  is  well,"  said  the  Fox,  "  the  Great  Spirit  will 
speed  Eoneguski  on  his  errand,  but  to  night  he  will  rest 
in  the  wigwam  of  his  father ;  the  next  sun  will  find  the 
young  warrior  refreshed  for  his  journey." 

"  It  is  well,"  replied  Eoneguski. 

"  A  flock  of  turkeys,"  said  the  Fox,  "  are  in  yonder 
swamp.  I  will  find  them  on  their  perch,  and  placing 
them  between  me  and  the  stars,  will  supply  a  feast  for 
Eoneguski,  when  he  returns  from  the  slaughter  of  his 
enemy." 

"  They  are  there,"  said  Eoneguski,  "  I  heard  some 
of  the  branches,  as  I  passed,  falling  with  their  weight." 


E0NEGU8KI.  131 

The  two  speakers  now  separated,  passing  each  other, 
and  pursuing  their  way  in  opposite  directions. 

It  may  well  be  imagined  that  the  feelings  of  Welch 
were  much  wrought  upon  during  this  dialogue.  By  it 
he  distinctly  learned,  that  the  danger  he  so  narrowly 
escaped,  had  in  no  degree  been  magnified  by  imagina- 
tion, and,  what  was  to  him,  under  present  circumstances, 
a  matter  of  no  slight  moment,  he  was  pretty  satisfac- 
torily informed,  that  for  some  reason,  best  known  to 
himself,  Chuheluh  had  a  sincere  purpose  and  desire  to 
enable  him  to  escape  his  pursuer,  and  that  time  for 
flight  would  be  afforded  him.  He  had  not  space, 
however,  for  much  reflection,  when  he  was  rejoined  by 
the  Fox.  "Come,"  said  the  latter,  in  a  whisper,  "  you 
may  gain  the  start  of  the  avenger.  Chuheluh  is  wise, 
and  knows  from  whence  to  expect  danger,  and  how 
to  escape  it." 

Welch  perceived  that  the  Fox  was  not  aware  of  his 
having  overheard  the  conversation  between  him  and 
Eoneguski,  and,  perhaps,  by  ears  less  anxiously  atten- 
tive than  those  of  Welch,  it  would  not  have  been  heard, 
but  he  resolved,  for  his  own  better  satisfaction,  to  probe 
him  a  little  further  on  the  subject. 

"  Did  not  Chuheluh  converse  with  some  one  just 
now?"  inquired  Welch. 

"  Why  does  my  brother  ask?"  replied  Chuheluh. 

"  Because  I  thought  I  heard  at  a  distance  the  sound 
of  human  voices." 

"  It  was  but  the  murmuring  of  the  river,"  replied  the 
Fox — "  Hush !  do  you  not  hear  it  now  ?" 

V  It  is  well ;"  replied  Welch,  fully  satisfied  that  the 
Fox  had  his  own  reasons  for  wishing  him  to  suppose 
he  was  not  indebted  to  any  ordinary  means  for  the  infor- 
mation he  possessed.  Whatever  might  be  his  motive, 
Welch  was  determined  to  humor  him,  and  forbore  to 
give  any  intimation  of  what  he  had  overheard. 


132  EONEGUSKI. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Then  through  the  forest's  tangled  way, 

*********** 

Their  path  the  Indians  hold  ; 

Each  stepping  where  the  first  had  gone, 

'Twas  but  the  mark  of  one. 

Yamoyden. 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  moral  phenomenon  more 
striking-  than  that  complete  control,  which,  in  seasons  of 
difficulty,  superior  knowledge  gives  to  one  mind  over 
another.  On  these  occasions  even  vanity,  which,  in  the 
quiet  of  ordinary  life,  contends  so  powerfully  in  each 
mind  for  its  own  high  rank,  and  disdain  of  a  superior, 
is  hushed  into  silence,  and  quietly  suffers  the  tame 
submission.  All  factitious  circumstances  are  forgotten, 
and  with  the  meekness  of  childhood,  the  lessons  of  ex- 
perience are  listened  to  and  obeyed  until  the  danger  is 
overpast. 

Being  convinced  of  Chuheluh's  purposes  to  deliver 
him,  and  of  an  experience  on  his  part  in  such  matters 
greatly  surpassing  his  own,  Welch  passively  yielded 
himself  to  his  dictation.  Obedient  to  a  signal,  he  fol- 
lowed him  down  to  the  river,  where  they  found  a 
canoe  tied,  into  which  they  entered  without  speaking. 
Chuheluh  plied  the  paddle,  and  by  the  time  they  had 
fairly  left  one  shore,  the  prow  of  the  canoe  rested  upon 
the  other.  In  the  same  silent  manner  they  left  the 
river,  and  walked  rapidly  on  in  the  direction  of  the 
Cowee  Mountain,  which  they  soon  began  to  ascend, 
without  much  diminution  of  their  speed.  But  it  was 
not  long  ere  Welch  found  himself  obliged  to  entreat 
his  companion  that  their  pace  might  be  slackened,  as 
his  strength  was  not  adequate  to  the  exertion  he  was 
making,  and  must  soon  fail  altogether,  and  leave  him 
in  the  power  of  his  enemies.  "  Courage,"  replied  the 
Fox,  "  a  place  of  rest  and  refreshment  is  at  hand." 


EONEGUSKI.  133 

A  deer  now  bounded  across  their  path,  and,  in  a 
moment  more,  was  struggling  upon  the  ground,  pierced 
by  an  arrow  from  the  bow  of  Chuheluh.  The  Fox 
drew  out  his  scalping-knife,  and,  having  stripped  the 
skin  from  the  brawny  part  of  the  thigh  of  the  deer,  cut 
out  several  large  slices,  and  deposited  them  in  a  kind  of 
knapsack,  which  he  carried  slung  across  his  shoulders, 
beneath  his  blanket.  Having  taken  off  his  knapsack,  he 
handed  it  to  Welch,  intimating  that  he  should  carry  it. 
Welch  found  it  not  without  weight,  containing,  besides 
the  meat,  and  a  gourd  of  about  a  pint  measure,  a  peck 
of  parched  corn,  beat  or  ground  into  meal.  They 
then  resumed  their  walk,  after  the  loss  of  but  little  time, 
until  they  reached  the  summit  of  the  mountain. 

Upon  the  very  crest,  from  whence  they  had  a  com- 
manding view  down  both  its  sides,  Chuheluh  selected 
a  spot  where,  from  the  appearance  of  the  trees,  an 
abundant  harvest  of  chestnuts  had  been  deposited 
among  the  leaves,  with  which  the  ground  was  pretty 
thickly  covered.  Having  scraped  away  a  quantity  of 
the  leaves,  for  about  a  yard  in  circumference,  so  as  to 
make  the  ground  entirely  bare,  they  proceeded  to  kindle 
a  fire  of  sticks,  and  then  to  scoop  out  the  earth  from  a 
moist  place  in  the  side  of  the  mountain,  scarcely  deserv- 
ing the  name  of  a  spring.  The  hollow  they  had  form- 
ed, however,  soon  filled  itself  with  water,  of  which  they 
were  enabled  to  dip  a  gourdful  at  a  time,  neither  very 
clear  nor  well  tasted,  though  not  at  all  deficient  in 
one  of  the  most  important  qualrties  of  good  water — 
coldness.  In  the  gourd  Chuheluh  deposited  a  handful 
of  meal,  and  filled  it  with  water,  then  having  stirred 
about  the  preparation,  until  the  meal  and  water  was 
thoroughly  blended,  drank  it  off  with  evident  gusto, 
and  Welch  followed  his  example.  By  the  time  these 
arrangements  were  completed  their  fire  had  burnt  into 
glowing  embers,  upon  which  Chuheluh  laid  some  of  the 
slices  of  venison,  and,  notwithstanding  his  mental  suf- 
ferings, and,  unaided  as  the  venison  was  by  either  bread 
or  salt,  Welch  found  it  very  savory  fare.     Having  thus 

vol.  i.— 12. 


134  EONEGUSKI. 

completed  their  meal,  the  Fox  proceeded  to  extinguish 
the  fire,  and  to  scatter  about  the  leaves  hither  and 
thither,  baring  the  ground  for  a  few  inches,  in  several 
places  within  the  circumference  of  many  yards. 

"  If  one  shall  come  to  this  spot,"  said  the  Fox,  "  he 
will  not  think  the  sons  of  men  have  been  feasting  here, 
but  that  the  hog  or  turkey  has  been  turning  up  the 
leaves  in  search  of  mast. — My  brother  will  watch  by 
me,"  he  added,  "  until  Chuheluh  shall  refresh  himself 
with  sleep,  and  then,  in  turn,  I  will  watch  by  my  bro- 
ther." 

Without  waiting  for  a  reply,  the  Fox  wrapped  his 
blanket  about  him,  and  coiling  himself  up  at  the  root 
of  a  large  tree,  was  soon  in  a  sound  sleep.  Welch 
was  much  refreshed  by  the  nourishment  he  had  taken, 
but  a  disposition  to  sleep  stole  over  him  as  he  listened 
to  the  monotonous  music  of  the  snoring  Fox,  he  was 
scarcely  able  to  resist.  Indeed,  he  began  to  be  serious- 
ly apprehensive,  he  would  fail  in  his  duty,  as  a  watch- 
ful sentinel,  and  prove  himself  unworthy  the  confi- 
dence which,  from  the  apparent  composure  of  his  sleep, 
the  Fox  reposed  in  him.  Fortunately,  however,  for 
Welch,  the  tax  upon  his  vigilance  was  not  greater  than 
he  was  able  to  bear,  for  in  a  much  shorter  time  than  he 
could  have  believed  possible,  the  Fox  had  completed  his 
slumbers;  and,  arising  with  a  snort — "Sleep,"  said  he 
to  Welch :  and  Welch,  without  waiting  for  a  second 
invitation,  gladly  availed  himself  of  the  one  received, 
and  was  quickly  in  that  state,  which,  like  death,  its 
great  prototype,  levels  all  distinctions — in  which  visions 
of  happiness  and  misery  come  with  equal  pace  to  the 
tempest  rocked  sea  boy,  and  the  luxurious  loiterer  on 
the  thrice  driven  bed  of  down. 

The  dreams  of  Welch  were  of  mingled  pain  and 
pleasure ;  but,  such  as  they  were,  Chuheluh  watched 
over  his  slumbers  with  as  much  apparent  patience  as 
could  the  tenderest  mother  over  the  roseate  slumbers 
of  her  first  born.  After  a  time,  however,  his  manner 
changed:  and  as  the  sleep  of  Welch  was  protracted  he 


EONEGUSKI.  135 

became  restless,  looking  out  with  increased  anxiety  in 
the  direction  they  had  come,  and  ever  and  anon  east- 
wardly,  as  if  in  search  of  something  from  both  quarters. 
At  length,  far  in  the  east,  a  fire  appeared  to  be  kindling 
upon  the  top  of  the  Blue  Mountains. 

"Come,"  said  the  Fox,  shaking  his  companion,  "you 
can  sleep  no  longer — the  Fox  slumbers  not  while  the 
hound  is  on  his  trail. — Look  yonder,"  continued  he,  as 
the  rays  of  light  came  stealing  towards  them,  while 
the  top  of  the  distant  mountain,  over  against  them, 
seemed,  for  a  considerable  extent,  in  a  blaze.  Welch 
started  up  in  surprise,  and  cast  his  eye  in  the  direction 
indicated.  And  now  a  bright  round  object  was  just 
appearing  above  the  trees,  which  crowned  the  opposite 
mountain. 

"  It  is  the  moon,"  said  Welch. 

"  It  is  the  moon,"  replied  the  Fox ;  "  we  must  be 
going.'[ 

Having  restored  the  place  from  whence  they  had 
obtained  their  needful  but  scanty  supply  of  water,  as 
nearly  as  possible  to  the  condition  in  which  they  had 
found  it,  the  Fox  indicated  to  Welch  his  wish  that  he 
should  precede  him,  as  well  as  the  direction  he  should 
take,  and  followed  after  him,  carefully  restoring  every 
leaf  displaced  by  his  footsteps,  and  every  bough  and 
twig  he  removed  in  his  progress,  to  their  original 
position. 

They  pursued  their  way  without  speaking,  for  several 
miles,  until,  by  a  circuitous  route,  they  reached  the 
Tuckasege.  They  walked  down  the  margin  of  that 
stream  for  some  distance,  until  they  found  a  canoe,  into 
which  they  both  leaped,  but  instead  of  striking  directly 
across,  Chuheluh  paddled  up  the  stream,  until  they 
reached  a  landing  nearly  opposite  the  place  where  they 
first  came  to  the  river.  Here  the  Fox  sprung  into 
the  water,  and  turning  the  canoe  adrift,  signified  to 
Welch  to  follow  his  example,  and  waded  some  distance 
farther  up,  in  the  edge  of  the  stream,  when  suddenly 
pulling  aside  a  parcel  of  shrubbery,  overhanging  the 


136  EONEGTTSKI. 

water,  disclosed  to  Welch  a  cave,  a  little  above  the  pre- 
sent level  of  the  current. 

"  This,"  said  he,  "is  a  place  where  a  fox  has  often 
found  security  from  his  pursuers;"  and  so  saying,  bent 
himself  to  creep  in ;  but  his  entrance  was  disputed  by 
one  of  those  animals.  The  quadruped  was  in  no  way 
disposed  to  quit  her  rightful  possession,  in  favor  of  the 
biped,  but,  with  a  couple  of  half  grown  cubs  at  her 
back,  seemed  resolved  upon  maintaining  it.  But  a 
dexterous  blow  with  the  tomahawk  of  Chuheluh,  soon 
settled  the  controversy,  by  laying  the  old  fox  dead, 
whilst  the  young  ones  scampered  past  them,  terrified 
at  the  overthrow  of  their  champion.  Chuheluh  now 
entered  the  cave,  followed  by  Welch,  where  they 
found  more  than  room  enough  for  them  both  to  lie, 
in  considerable  comfort,  in  a  fine  warm  atmosphere. 
The  cave  was  so  situated  as,  through  the  shrubbery,  to 
command  a  view  of  the  river  for  some  distance  both 
above  and  below.  The  Tuckasege  hear  represents  a 
large  bow  very  much  bent,  and  the  cave  was  about  the 
point  where  the  arrow  would  have  crossed  it  in  the  act 
of  shooting. 

"  Here,"  said  Chuheluh,  "with  plenty  of  food,  pro- 
vided the  river  did.  not  rise  upon  us,  we  should  be  per- 
fectly secure  from  pursuit  j  but  our  food  is  scarce,  and 
on  the  very  first  rain,  the  water  will  be  certain  to  fill 
up  our  cave.  Our  stay,  then,  must  be  a  short  one,  but 
it  will  be  sufficient  to  enable  us  to  dodge  our  pur- 
suer, and  the  young  man  shall  see  that  Chuheluh  is 
wise." 

The  canoe  they  had  left  had  floated  calmly  down 
the  stream,  and  lodged  against  the  opposite  bank,  at  the 
lower  extremity  of  the  arc,  being  about  the  same  place 
from  whence  they  had  taken  it.  This  was  not  con- 
formable to  the  wishes  and  calculations  of  Chuheluh, 
who  intended  it  should  have  proceeded  without  interrup- 
tion far  down  the  river.  Our  two  adventurers  in  their 
comfortable  retreat,  renewed  their  convenient  arrange- 
ment of   watching  and  sleeping  by  turns,  although 


EONEGUSKI.  137 

Chuheluh,  in  generous  consideration  of  the  greater 
necessity  of  his  companion,  did  much  more  than  an  equal 
share  of  the  former.  This  unequal  necessity  might  be 
partially  owing  to  the  different  habits  of  the  two  persons, 
but  was,  probably,  not  altogether  independent  of  their 
respective  ages.  Nature  seems  to  have  provided  sleep, 
in  part,  at  least,  as  a  state  in  which  the  motion  of  the 
complicated  animal  machine,  being  for  a  time  suspend- 
ed or  retarded,  she  may,  with  the  more  convenience, 
repair  any  loss  or  derangement  in  its  minute  springs 
or  pivots  ;  but  in  age,  the  great  mechanic  being  about 
to  cast  aside  her  work,  as  no  longer  worthy  of  repair, 
permits  it  to  run  on  as  it  may,  with  fewer  and  shorter 
checks  in  its  operations. 

It  was  after  Welch  had  enjoyed  a  long  interval  of  re- 
pose, that  he  felt  the  hand  of  Chuheluh  laid  upon  his 
own.  It  awoke  him,  and  he  could  scarcely  realize  the 
situation  in  which  he  found  himself.  There  lay  out 
before,  and  nearly  on  a  level  with  him,  the  waters 
of  the  Tuckasege,  the  smallest  rise  in  whose  stream 
would  force  them  in,  to  smother  him  in  certain  death. 
The  sun  was  now  shining  upon  them  with  the  chilly 
lustre  of  a  winter  morning,  and  they  were  sending 
up  towards  heaven  light  fleeces  of  vapor,  as  if  in  ex- 
change for  the  scant  supply  of  warmth  he  was  pouring 
upon  them.  The  fanciful  divines  of  other  days  would 
have  likened  it  to  the  incense  of  piety,  ascending  in 
grateful  return  for  the  kindly  visitation  of  the  Sun  of 
Righteousness.  Chuheluh  laid  his  finger  on  his  lip, 
and  pointed  in  the  direction  of  the  canoe.  It  was  still 
swinging  lazily  backwards  and  forwards:  as  forced 
in  by  the  current,  it  would  strike  against  the  bank  and 
recoil  again  upon  the  stream.  But  the  shore  was  not 
as  they  had  left  it — lone  and  tenantless.  One  now 
stood  upon  its  brink,  in  the  habiliments  of  a  warrior, 
tall,  strong,  and  active.  The  dead  fox  had  adhered  to 
the  side  of  the  canoe,  attracted,  as  is  usual,  for  a  smaller 
body  by  a  larger,  when  floating  in  a  fluid — it  drew  the 
attention  of  the  warrior,  who  took  it  up — examined  its 

12* 


138  EONEGUSKI. 

blood-boltered  head,  and  threw  it  back  again  into  the 
waters,  to  be  carried  whithersoever  they  might  please. 
He  then  looked  about  in  every  direction,  and  seemed 
bewildered.  He  walked  up  and  down  the  bank,  ex- 
amining carefully  for  foot  prints,  and  seemed  dissatisfied 
with  the  result  of  his  investigation. 

"  It  is  Eoneguski,"  whispered  the  Fox :  "  With  a 
good  rifle,  John  Welch  might  send  him  to  his  friend, 
the  Leech,  and  then  fly  away  to  the  white  settlements, 
secure  from  pursuit.  John  Welch  should  be  welcome 
to  the  bow  of  Chuheluh,  but  he  is  unpractised  in  the 
use  of  the  bow,  and  the  distance  is  considerable.  What 
would  my  brother  say  if  Chuheluh  were  to  send  an 
arrow,  and  quiet  forever  the  fears  of  John  Welch  ?" 

"  Let  me  die  rather,"  said  Welch. 


EONEGUSKI.  139 


CHAPTER  XV. 

So  noiseless  was  their  cautious  tread, 
The  wakeful  squirrel  over  head, 
Knew  not  that  aught  beneath  him  sped. 

Yamoyden. 

Under  every  variety  of  circumstances  there  must 
be  a  vast  difference  in  the  feelings  of  the  pursued  and 
the  pursuer :  and  in  one  or  both  of  these  situations  every 
animated  creature  is  sometimes  found.  Every  man 
has  experienced  the  throbbing  apprehension  and  despe- 
rate despondence,  which,  by  turns,  quicken  and  paralyze 
the  energies  of  the  one,  and  the  intrepid  confidence 
and  doubtful  irresolution  which  alternately  impel  and 
retard  the  progress  of  the  other.  For  the  former,  the 
great  variety  of  expedients  for  escape  serve,  while 
they  embarrass  in  the  selection,  rather  to  amuse  the 
mind,  like  the  speculative  sciences ;  while  the  absolute 
necessity  for  success  on  the  part  of  the  other  of  tend- 
ing towards  the  point  whither  the  pursued  is  pressing, 
renders  him  fearful  of  the  consequences  of  mistake, 
and  exercises  his  mind  like  a  dull  mathematical  pro- 
blem. But  the  most  obvious  and  general  difference 
between  them  is,  that  the  object  of  the  pursuer  is  some 
temporary  gratification,  and  is  only  the  preferred  among 
many  employments  he  might  have  found  for  his  mind 
and  body,  while  the  pursued  is  usually  striving  for  the 
preservation  of  life  itself,  or  of  something  on  which  its 
value  materially  depends. 

Thus  relatively  situated,  were  Eoneguski  and  Welch. 
The  former  had  fallen  upon  the  trail  of  the  latter,  after 
an  early  outset  from  Eonee,  with  a  determination  of 
speedily  sacrificing  him  to  family  vengeance ;  and  Chu- 
heluh  had  so  managed  as  to  impose  upon  him  the 
belief  that  he  was  on  the  track  of  a  solitary  wanderer, 


140  EONEGUSKI. 

He  pursued  the  trail  until  he  came  to  the  place  where 
the  fugitives  had  taken  their  refreshment,  but  owing  to 
the  prudent  precaution  of  the  wily  Fox,  was  unable  to 
trace  it  any  farther.  Before  they  reached  the  Tucka- 
sege,  however,  the  Fox  found  that  too  much  time 
would  be  lost  in  effacing  the  vestiges  of  their  flight, 
and  trusted  once  more  to  the  chance  of  Eoneguski's 
failing  to  find  it,  and  accordingly  made  all  the  haste  he 
could,  without  regard  to  consequences,  until  they  came 
to  that  river.  Eoneguski  finding  himself  bewildered  at 
the  place  where  the  fugitives  had  rested,  determined  to 
proceed  to  the  Tuckasege,  regardless  of  the  trail,  con- 
fident, that  at  some  of  its  crossing  places,  he  would  find 
the  track  of  Welch,  on  his  way  to  the  white  settlements. 
He  accordingly  fell  again  upon  his  trail,  just  before  he 
reached  the  river,  which  conducted  him  to  the  place 
where  the  canoe  lay.  Here  he  was  again  a  good  deal 
puzzled — there  were  the  tracks  leading  to  the  water, 
but  none  leading  from  it — there  was  the  slain  fox,  indi- 
cating the  recent  presence  of  some  human  being — and 
yet  there  was  no  canoe  on  the  other  side. 

"  He  must  have  swam  across,"  he  said,  to  himself, 
and  accordingly  leaped  into  the  canoe,  and  was  quickly 
on  the  same  side  of  the  river  with  the  undiscovered 
object  of  his  pursuit.  Here  he  resumed  his  search  for 
tracks,  but  without  success.  Several  times  did  Welch 
and  Chuheluh  hear  his  footsteps  sound  upon  the  hollow 
ground,  above  them,  and  once  did  his  hand  rustle  the 
very  bushes  concealing  the  entrance  of  their  cave. — 
And  then  again  did  the  heart  of  Welch  throb  so  loudly 
as  to  endanger  his  discovery,  as  he  felt  the  blood  rece- 
ding from  his  extremities.  Chuheluh  cast  upon  him  a 
look  of  surprise,  mingled  with  contempt,  while  not  the 
slightest  ensign  of  fear  was  exhibited  in  his  own  coun- 
tenance or  manner. 

When  they  perceived,  by  the  sound  of  his  steps,  that 
Eoneguski  was  departing — "  Let  him  beware,"  whis- 
pered Chuheluh,  through  his  clinched  teeth ;  "  he  may 
feel  the  fang  of  the  snake  before  he  hears  the  rattle." 


EONEGUSKI.  141 

Long  and  anxious  was  the  suspense  under  which 
Welch  remained  in  his  place  of*  concealment.  At 
length,  when  every  thing  had  become  perfectly  quiet, 
Chuheluh  cautiously  put  forth  his  head,  and  gradually 
raised  himself  to  a  level  with  the  bank  over  their 
retreat,  and  peered  carefully  around  in  every  direction. 
There  lay  the  canoe  in  which  he  had  come  over,  but 
Eoneguski  himself  was  not  visible.  Chuheluh  then 
climbed  up  the  bank,  and  having  been  absent  a  few 
minutes,  returned,  and  in  a  soft  voice  called  to  Welch — 
"  Come,"  said  he,  "  the  sun  is  on  our  path,  let  us  travel 
while  it  shines." 

It  was  not  without  apprehension  that  Welch  did  as 
he  was  directed,  and,  greatly  refreshed,  they  pursued 
their  journey.  Chuheluh  pointed  out  to  Welch  the 
trail  of  Eoneguski.  "  There  he  went,"  said  he,  "  we 
must  change  our  direction,  unless  you  are  willing  to 
meet  him  like  a  man,  and  settle  the  matter  at  once." 

"  I  have  blood  enough  on  my  hands  already,"  said 
Welch,  sighing,  "  for  God's  sake  let  us  shun  him." 

"  I  wish  my  brother  was'not  so  much  of  a  pale  face," 
said  Chuheluh,  "but  I  am  his  servant,  and  will  obey. 
Let  us  go  on  by  the  way  of  Scott's  Creek,  and  turning 
the  end  of  the  Balsam  Mountain,  place  it  between 
us  and  our  enemy,  and  whilst  he  is  basking  on  its  sunny 
side,  thinking  to  slay  you  as  you  pass,  we  will,  by  a 
more  circuitous  route,  reach  the  Homony  in  safety." 

No  plan  could  have  been  more  gratifying  to  Welch 
than  this,  and  he  accordingly  adopted  it  with  alacrity. 
They  journeyed  on  the  course  thus  indicated,  with  the 
necessary  intervals  for  sleep  and  refreshment,  until  the 
evening  of  the  following  day,  when  Chuheluh  stopping 
suddenly,  said,  "Look  there!"  and  immediately  dodged 
behind  a  large  tree ;  "  that  is  what  I  was  afraid  of,"  he 
added,  "  and  have  watched  closely  against  it."  Welch 
endeavored  to  follow  his  example,  at  the  same  time 
casting  his  eye  in  the  direction  indicated  by  the  Fox. 

Upon  one  of  the  loftiest  pinnacles  of  the  Balsam 
stood  what  had  the  indistinct  appearance  of  a  human 


142  EONEGUSKI. 

being,  whose  outline  was  blended  with  the  clouds  over- 
hanging the  mountain.  "  It  is  he,"  said  Chuheluh :  "  he 
has  seen  you,  but  I  have  escaped  his  observation." 

A  loud  yell  now  rang,  as  from  the  very  heavens,  with 
a  descent  of  the  dark  body  down  the  side  of  the  moun- 
tain, with  a  rapidity  scarcely  surpassed  by  the  flight  of 
a  bird.  Chuheluh  was  convinced  that  he  was  right  in 
his  conjecture,  that  Welch  had  been  discovered. 

"  Your  heels  must  do  something  for  you  now,"  said 
the  Fox ;  "  we  have  a  great  way  the  start  of  him,  it  is 
true,  but  he  has  the  advantage  of  the  steep  mountain 
side,  and  there  is  no  time  to  be  lost;"  indicating  to 
Welch  the  direction  he  should  take,  he  himself  fol- 
lowing, and  treading  exactly  in  the  steps  which  Welch 
made,  in  rapid  succession.  The  eye  had  been  deceived 
as  to  the  proximity  of  the  object  of  their  apprehen- 
sion, who,  although  apparently  suspended  immediately 
above  them,  was  in  fact  a  mile  or  two  distant,  and 
had  now  ceased  to  be  visible.  But  Chuheluh  was 
not  satisfied  with  the  progress  of  their  flight.  "  Go  on," 
said  he  to  Welch,  "  as  fast  as  you  can,  until  you  meet 
with  me  again; — do  not  even  stop  to  look  behind  you, 
while  I  make  some  better  provision  for  your  safety." 

"  For  Heaven's  sake  do  not  kill  my  pursuer,"  said 
Welch. 

"  I  will  not,"  said  the  Fox,  "  unless  he  forces  me 
to  it. — But  this  is  no  time  for  conversation — Haste  I 
say." 

Welch  felt  too  strongly  the  urgency  of  his  case  to 
hesitate,  but  flew  onward  with  his  utmost  speed.  The 
Fox  retraced,  for  some  distance,  the  way  over  which 
Welch  and  he  had  passed,  carefully  effacing  their  foot- 
marks, and  all  other  signs  of  their  passage ;  then 
diverging  from  it  by  an  angle  of  about  twenty  degrees, 
he  returned  in  a  different  direction  so  as  to  divide  his 
own  track  from  that  of  Welch  more  and  more  distantly 
the  farther  they  both  advanced.  This  latter  track  he 
took  care  to  make  exceedingly  plain,  so  that  it  should 
not  escape  the  notice  of  the  most  inattentive  observer. 


EONEGUSKI.  143 

He  continued  this  route  with  considerable  speed,  until 
he  struck  the  base  of  another  of  those  ridges  of  small 
mountains  or  large  hills,  with  which  that  section  of 
country  is  filled.  Here  his  speed  was  necessarily- 
slackened,  but  he  nevertheless  continued  to  press  for- 
ward, until  nearly  one  half  of  the  height  had  been  sur- 
mounted. A  chasm,  not  very  conspicuous,  in  a  large 
rock,  attracted  his  practised  vision,  and  gathering  to- 
gether a  quantity  of  leaves,  and  having  effaced  for  some 
distance  the  appearances  of  his  advance,  he  threw  him- 
self into  the  chasm,  and  carefully  disposing  the  leaves 
over  him,  awaited  the  issue  of  the  matter  with  perfect 
composure. 

Eoneguski,  after  his  fruitless  search  for  Welch  at 
the  river,  had  determined  to  proceed  and  waylay  him 
in  the  pass  between  the  Balsam  and  the  opposite  ridge 
of  mountains,  a  few  miles  to  the  westward  of  Waynes- 
ville,  through  which  he  supposed  he  would  certainly 
pass.  He  therefore  continued  his  way  along  the  bed  of 
Scott's  Creek,  which,  like  the  Homony,  described  at  the 
beginning  of  our  story,  conducts  the  traveller,  by  the 
most  practicable  way,  across  the  ridge  of  mountains  in 
which  it  takes  it  rise. 

But,  as  we  have  seen,  guided  by  the  sagacity  of 
Chuheluh,  in  place  of  pursuing  this  route,  Welch 
turned  the  point  of  the  mountain  where  Scott's  Creek 
sweeps  around  in  its  impetuous  search  for  the  Tucka- 
sege,  into  which  it  is  continually  pouring  a  willing  tri- 
bute. This  compelled  them  to  cross  the  Balsam  at  ano- 
ther place,  and  fall  into  the  valley  of  the  Big  Pigeon. 
Eoneguski  was  not  long  in  discovering  that  his  plan 
would  not  meet  with  success,  and  accordingly  ascended 
that  pinnacle  of  the  mountain,  called  by  way  of  pre- 
eminence, the  Balsam,  which  commanded  a  view  of 
both  valleys  for  a  great  extent.  This  whole  ridge  takes 
its  name  from  a  species  of  fir,  with  wThich  it  abounds, 
endowed,  in  the  estimation  of  the  Indians,  and  common 
white  people,  with  the  most  sanative  virtues. 

Eoneguski  had  just  reached  his  elevated  observatory, 


144  EONEGUSKI. 

when  he  was  discovered  by  the  quick  eye  of  Chuhe- 
luh.  In  another  instant,  his  own  caught  the  object 
of  his  pursuit,  without  observing  his  companion.  A 
yell  of  savage  joy  burst  from  his  lips,  as  he  stooped 
like  an  eagle  upon  his  quarry.  He  was  not  long  in 
getting  upon  the  trail  of  the  fugitive,  which  he  followed 
with  untiring  speed.  When  he  came  to  the  point  where 
Chuheiuh  had  made  his  diversion,  he  passed  it  without 
suspicion,  and  took  the  track  that  had  been  purposely 
marked  for  him,  pursuing  it  until  it  was  no  longer 
perceptible.  He  was  again  at  fault,  and  like  an  expe- 
rienced hound,  traversed  backwards  and  forwards,  and 
endeavored  to  take  it  oft\  but  in  vain.  "  The  creature 
must  here,"  he  thought  to  himself,  "  have  either  sunk 
into  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  or  taken  wings,  and  flown 
away." 

After  many  vain  attempts  to  regain  the  thread  by 
which  to  pursue  his  victim,  Eoneguski  determined  to 
continue  his  ascent  up  the  mountain,  and  try  the  effect 
of  another  observation  from  its  summit.  Meantime 
Chuheiuh,  who  had  enjoyed,  from  his  hiding  place,  the 
embarrassment  of  the  pursuer,  and,  with  difficulty  re- 
strained the  indulgence  of  his  mortal  feelings  towards 
him,  as  soon  as  he  perceived  the  way  was  clear,  came 
forth,  and  struck  off  in  a  direction,  which  would  cut,  at 
a  very  acute  angle,  the  path  he  had  indicated  to  Welch. 
The  latter  was  so  worn  down  by  his  exertions  that  he 
was  getting  along  at  a  very  slow  rate,  scarcely  exceed- 
ing that  of  the  animal  after  which  the  river,  of  which  so 
much  has  been  said,  is  called,  viz  :  the  Tuckasege,  or, 
Travelling  Terapin,  when  Chuheiuh  discovered  him 
at  some  distance  before.  His  own  tireless  strength 
enabled  him  soon  to  overtake  Welch,  and  he  was  not 
long  in  conducting  him  to  a  place  convenient  for  re- 
freshing themselves. 

"  We  are,  for  some  time  at  least,"  said  he,  "  safe — 
the  Fox  has  thrown  the  hound  far  off  his  trail,  and 
he  will  be  long  in  finding  it  again.  But  our  way 
must  now  lie  immediately  across  the  one  taken  by 


EONEGUSKI.  145 

Eoneguski,  and,  the  loss  of  an  hour  or  two,  may  be 
many  days  gained  to  us." 

It  was  near  dusk,  and  a  herd  of  swine  was  rooting 
about  among  the  leaves  near  them.  Chuheluh  fixed 
his  eyes  upon  the  nearest  and  best  looking,  and  the 
notch  of  the  arrow  was  upon  the  string — 

"  What  are  you  after  ?"  said  Welch. 

"  Pork,"  replied  the  Indian,  and  the  arrow  flew. 

"  Good  Heavens,"  exclaimed  Welch,  "  another  crime. 
I  know  by  the  hogs  being  here  in  such  abundance,  that 
we  are  beyond  the  Indian  boundary,  and  we  shall  be 
brought  to  the  whipping  post  for  stealing." 

"  Humph,"  said  the  Indian,  coolly  cutting  ofT  a  few 
slices  of  the  pork,  and  laying  them  on  the  coals  he  had 
previously  provided.  He  could  not,  however,  prevail 
on  Welch  to  share  with  him,  although  that  circum- 
stance did  not  detract,  as  it  seemed,  in  the  slightest 
degree  from  the  zest  with  which  he  devoured  the  pork. 
Yet  Welch  did  not  disdain  a  draught  of  the  parched  meal 
and  water,  which  he  found  by  experience  as  refreshing 
and  nourishing  a  draught,  under  fatigue,  as  he  had  ever 
tasted.  Chuheluh  informed  him  that  upon  it  alone  the 
Indians  usually  performed  their  longest  and  most  rapid 
journeys,  and  joined  with  Welch  in  his  regret,  that 
their  stock  was  now  so  nearly  exhausted,  without  any 
immediate  prospect  of  a  fresh  supply. 

Having  finished  their  repast,  they  concluded  to  sleep 
and  watch  by  turns,  until  the  rising  of  the  moon,  which 
was  no  sooner  agreed  upon  than  the  savage,  with  his 
characteristic  energy,  began  to  carry  the  plan  into  exe- 
cution. The  moon  having  risen,  Chuheluh  proceeded 
to  cut  off  a  few  more  slices  of  the  hog  he  had  butch- 
ered, and  stowed  them  in  the  knapsack,  which  Welch 
now  declined  carrying  farther.  But  the  savage,  who 
seemed  resolved  on  humoring  him  in  every  thing,  made 
no  difficulty  about  taking  it  himself. 

The  course  of  Welch,  after  parting  with  Chuheluh, 
had  been  north,  and  they  now  struck  off  along  the 
ridge  of  the  mountain,  in  a  direction  nearly  eastwardly, 

VOL.  I. — 13. 


146  EONEGTJSKI. 

progressing  quietly  and  cautiously,  until  Chuheluh 
stopped  suddenly,  and  laying  his  hand  upon  the  arm  of 
Welch,  pointed  out  to  him  the  indistinct  marks  of  a 
human  trail.  He  then  signed  to  Welch  to  stand  still, 
whilst  he  himself  followed  the  trail  to  a  cliff;  towards 
which  it  lead.  Having  arrived  at  the  cliff,  Chuheluh 
looked  over,  then  cast  his  eye  back  towards  Welch, 
smiling,  and  beckoning  him  to  approach  softly.  Welch 
obeyed,  and  looking  over  the  cliff,  about  ten  feet  per- 
pendicular, beheld  his  persecutor  stretched  out  at  its 
base. 

The  arms  of  the  warrior  were  unnerved  in  sleep, 
and  the  moon-light,  beneath  which  he  lay,  was  not 
more  calm  and  peaceful  than  his  countenance.  The 
glitter  of  his  armor  was  all  that  indicated  the  deceitful- 
ness  of  the  apparent  calm,  and  that  the  disturbance  of 
his  repose  would  be  the  waking  of  terror.  A  bitter 
smile  played  upon  the  countenance  of  Chuheluh — he 
stooped  down  and  grasped  with  both  his  hands  a  massy 
rock,  which  tasked  his  whole  strength  to  raise  it — he 
bent  over  the  precipice  and  poised  it  for  an  instant — then 
turning  suddenly  upon  Welch,  put  it  into  his  arms  and 
pushed  him  towards  the  cliff  Welch  staggered  with 
his  heavy  burden,  and  it  fell  upon  the  bare  rock  whereon 
they  were  standing.  The  explosion  was  loud,  and  was 
answered  and  re-answered  by  the  echoes  of  the  moun- 
tain. The  warrior  started  from  his  repose,  and  obedient 
to  instinct,  Welch  and  his  conductor  fled  before  him, 
who  was  immediately  on  their  track.  But  the  stata- 
gems  of  Chuheluh  were  again  effectual ;  they  succeeded 
in  eluding  their  pursuer,  and  to  play  with  him,  for  many 
succeeding  days,  a  game  of  hide  and  seek — crossing 
streams  and  valleys,  and  flitting  from  mountain  top  to 
mountain  top,  until  they  were  conducted  to  the  north- 
ward of  the  Grandfather  Mountain,  which  towers  in 
venerable  majesty,  as  though  in  truth  the  great  pro- 
genitor of  the  multitudes  of  inferior  mountains,  which 
occupy  for  many  miles  around  him.  From  his  capa- 
cious bosom  streams  issue  forth,  to  water  and  fertilize 


EONEGUSKI.  147 

the  valleys  of  four  large  States,  in  so  many  different 
directions,  seeking  their  way  to  the  vast  Atlantic. 

Fatigue,  exposure,  scantiness  of  food,  and  distress  of 
mind,  began,  at  length,  to  prove  too  trying  to  the  consti- 
tution of  Welch,  manifesting  their  deleterious  influence 
in  symptoms  of  approaching  pleurisy.  "  You  are  no 
longer  able  to  shift,"  said  the  Fox,  in  a  tone  of  compas- 
sion, which  surprised  and  affected  Welch,  "and  my 
brother  must  seek  for  refuge  in  some  home  of  the 
white  man. — The  Fox  would  gladly  have  conducted 
the  young  man  to  the  Homony,  but  that  is  impossible ; 
yet  he  has  enabled  him  to  dodge  his  pursuer,  who  is 
now  completely  thrown  off  his  trail.  He  will  place 
him  within  reach  of  some  of  his  own  people  of  the 
pale  face,  and  Chuheluh  will  return  to  Eonee." 

Welch  saw  the  necessity  of  his  situation,  and  the 
impossibility  of  reaching,  at  present,  his  desired  haven. 


148  EONEGUSKI. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

And  dost  thou  not  ramember  how  we  cheer'd 
Upon  the  last  hill  top,  when  white  men's  huts  appeared  ? 

Campbell. 

Events,  to  which,  in  some  states  of  mind,  the  same 
person  would  prefer  even  self-destruction,  are,  in  others, 
nailed  as  the  kindest  arrangements  of  Providence ;  and 
every  one  must  have  been  struck,  in  his  own  experience, 
with  the  preparatory  circumstances  which  have  pre- 
ceded every  trying  incident  in  his  life,  qualifying  him 
for  its  toleration. 

Had  any  circumstance  occurred  to  Welch,  imme- 
diately after  his  departure  from  Eonee,  calculated  to 
delay  for  any  great  length  of  time,  his  arrival  at  the 
Homony,  he  would,  probably,  have  preferred  the  im- 
mediate execution  of  the  vengeance  that  threatened  him, 
to  enduring  the  mental  agony  with  which  he  would 
have  been  visited.  But  now  that  his  patience  had  been 
gradually  subjected  to  trial,  the  prospect  of  undergoing 
an  illness,  which,  if  it  did  not  immediately  take  his  life, 
must  detain  him  for  a  length  of  time  from  the  scene  of 
his  melancholy  hopes,  in  lingering  debility,  and  in  a 
situation  in  all  probability  exceedingly  comfortless,  was 
looked  upon  with  scarcely  a  repining  thought.  On 
the  contrary,  he  dragged  on  his  enfeebled  footsteps,  in 
eager  search  for  some  white  man's  cabin,  where  he 
might  press  the  couch  of  disease,  and  await  the  uncer- 
tain issue. 

He  had  crossed  with  his  Indian  guide  the  head  water 
of  the  Great  Kanawha,  called  at  that  place  New  River: 
one  of  those  streams  issuing  from  the  Grandfather 
Mountain,  and  the  most  limpid  among  those  currents, 
where  the  unwary  traveller,  deceived  by  the  apparent 


EONEGUSKI.  149 

proximity  of  the  bottom,  through  the  clear  fluid,  finds 
himself  plunging  into  a  depth  of  eight  or  ten  feet,  when 
prepared  only  for  three  or  four.  They  stood  upon  the 
summit  of  the  Blue  Mountain,  from  whence,  with  a 
shout,  Chuheluh  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  Pilot  or  Ara- 
rat, the  ancient  guide  of  his  people  in  their  wanderings. 
There  it  stood,  resembling  in  its  shape  and  isolated  po- 
sition, a  fortress  erected  in  ancient  times,  by  some  gigan- 
tic race  of  civilized  warriors.  Although  fully  sixty 
miles  distant,  it  appeared  just  at  hand,  while  the  coun- 
try around  it,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  seemed 
a  vast  interminable  ocean,  the  inequalities  of  whose 
surface  were  its  mighty  waves,  and  the  little  farms  here 
and  there  visible,  so  many  delightful  islets,  inviting  to 
rest  from  toils  and  dangers  the  tempest  tost  mariner. 
The  evening  was  stretching  out  the  shadows  of  the 
trees  and  mountains,  as  this  glorious  scene  was  pre- 
sented to  the  wanderers,  and  its  beauty  was  rendered 
more  touching  by  the  contrast  of  the  extensive  tract 
of  deep  gloomy  shade  which  intervened,  and  its  own 
sunny  boundless  expanse.  It  was  the  land  of  bright 
interminable  bliss,  beyond  "  the  dark  valley  of  the  sha- 
dow of  death,"  which  it  separated  from  the  longing 
beholder. 

Sick  and  weary,  now  leaning  upon  his  assiduous 
guide,  Welch  progressed  down  the  mountain,  scarcely 
conscious  of  this  scene  of  grandeur  until  night  began 
to  close  upon  them,  when  they  heard  at  some  distance 
the  sound  of  a  blacksmith's  hammer  upon  the  yielding 
iron,  and  ever  and  anon,  ringing  upon  the  bare  anvil. 

"  That  sound  denotes  the  residence  of  a  white  man," 
said  Welch  faintly.  They  continued  to  approach  the 
place  from  whence  it  proceeded,  until  they  perceived 
the  sparks  rising  thickly  from  the  smithery. 

"  Go,"  said  the  Fox — "John  Welch  is  safe,  and  Chu- 
heluh must  return  to  his  own  people. — Let  not  my 
brother  grieve  for  the  death  of  the  Leech,  for  he  slew 
him  only  as  one  Indian  brave  should  always  slay  another, 
who  has  killed  his  brother.  Some  moons  hence,  when 
13* 


150  EONEGUSKI. 

the  Eonee  have  forgotten  the  Leech,  John  Welch  will 
come  to  Sugar  Town,  and  become  their  chief,  and  John 
Welch  and  Chuheluh  will  strengthen  one  another,  for 
Chuheluh  will  be  the  chief  of  Eonee,  when  the  aged 
Eonah  shall  be  no  more." 

Welch  was  a  little  startled  by  this  last  intimation,  of 
what  he  had  never  before  heard,  but  there  was  no  time 
now  for  expressing  his  surprise.  But  shaking  the 
Fox  by  the  hand,  after  the  manner  of  the  white 
man,  "  We  part,"  he  said,  faintly  and  mournfully, 
•'never  to  meet  more  until  we  shall  both  appear  in 
the  land  of  shadows.  For  your  untiring  assistance  in 
rescuing  me  from  the  avenger  of  the  Leech,  I  thank 
you.  It  is  a  debt  of  gratitude,  I  can  never  repay.  But 
you  owed  me  much.  The  soul  of  John  Welch  would 
have  still  been  pure  and  spotless,  had  you  not  assisted 
to  plunge  him  into  guilt,  and  I  shall,  for  that  reason, 
never  cease  to  deplore  that  I  ever  knew  you." 

Tears  came  to  the  relief  of  Welch,  the  united  effect 
of  bodily  disease,  penitential  sorrow,  and  the  convic- 
tion that  he  was,  in  truth,  beholding,  for  the  last  time, 
one  at  whose  hands  he  had  experienced  irreparable 
wrong,  with  much  of  kindness.  "  We  are  brothers," 
said  Chuheluh,  "  it  is  enough," 

Welch  continued  to  direct  his  enfeebled  footsteps  to- 
wards the  blacksmith's  shop,  from  whence  alternately 
proceeded  the  roaring  of  the  bellows  and  the  clattering 
of  the  hammer.  As  he  approached  the  door,  the  braw- 
ny hand  of  a  stout  Irishman,  more  than  six  feet  high, 
grasped  the  end  of  the  lever  with  which  he  was  plying 
the  bellows.  A  complexion  naturally  of  the  fairest, 
was  brought  through  the  instrumentality  of  smoke,  coal 
dust,  and  the  scales  of  iron,  into  pretty  perfect  harmony 
with  his  black  eyes  and  hair,  and  shaggy  beard.  We 
need  not  say  he  had  on  a  leathern  apron,  and  that  the 
sleeves  of  his  shirt,  his  only  upper  garment,  were  roll- 
ed up  far  above  the  elbows ;  that  he  was  bareheaded — 
and,  that  cold  as  it  was,  his  face  was  suffused  with  per- 
spiration.    The  expression  of  his  countenance  was  that 


EONEGTJSKI.  151 

of  vanity,  mingled  with  good  humor,  and  even  benevo- 
lence, and  none  who  looked  upon  it  but  were  struck 
with  astonishment  when  they  first  heard  the  harsh  dis- 
cordant voice  accompanying  it,  scarcely  less  loud  and 
dissonant  than  that  of  the  Cyclops  Polyphemus,  or  the 
sound  of  his  own  bellows. 

"  By  the  powers,"  said  he,  in  a  voice  with  which 
he  intended  to  express  great  kindness,  but  that  caused 
Welch  to  start  back  in  alarm — "  By  the  powers,  my 
man,  but  ye  are  not  wal." 

"  I  am  very  sick  indeed,"  replied  Welch,  faintly. 
"  By  my  sowl  then,"  said  the  blacksmith,  "and  it's  a 
lucky  man  ye  are,  whom  chance  has  brought  to  the 
door  of  Doctor  Wuddy  himsalf." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Welch,  "  I  took  you  for 
a  blacksmith." 

"  And  isn't  it  a  smith  I  am,  replied  the  Irishman — 
*'  but  what  segnifies  ones  fataguing  oneself  with  one 
trade  all  the  days  of  ones  life  :  besides,  the  coonthry  is 
not  sufTaciently  sattled  for  a  man  to  make  a  living  by 
the  smithey  itsalf,  and  happy  am  I  who  is  cliver,  and 
wid  a  dale  of  ingenuity  to  find  oot  anoder  gintale  way 
of  making  a  livelihood.  My  lancet  is  ould,  and  a  lit- 
tle rusty,  it  is  thrue,  but  I  am  a  torough  disciple  of  Dr. 
Rush,  and  make  gud  use  of  it,  and  can  blade  as  well  as 
any  man  in  the  county  of  Wilkes,  and  the  divil  fly 
away  wid  him  that  can  draw  a  toot  faster  nor  me. — 
There  is  a  root,"  said  he,  pulling  one  out  of  his  breech- 
es pocket,  somewhat  resembling  a  potatoe,  and  about 
the  same  size,  from  which  some  busy  knife  had  appa- 
rently been  engaged  in  whittling  off  shavings  from 
time  to  time,  "that  is  good  for  all  the  disases  with 
which  man  is  afflicted." 

While  delivering  this  harangue  the  smith  was  busi- 
ly engaged  in  setting  his  shop  to  rights,  previous  to 
leaving  it — such  as  extinguishing  the  fire,  &c. — throw- 
ing off  his  leathern  apron,  and  hanging  it  upon  the  end 
of  a  cold  chissel,  sticking  in  one  of  the  logs  of  which 
the  shop  was  built,  and  washing  some  of  the  more  re- 


152  EONEGUSKI. 

cent  dye  from  his  hands,  face  and  arms.  Then  stroking 
down  his  shirt  sleeves  and  slipping  over  them  a  home- 
spun jacket  and  coat,  "  I  think,"  said  he,  "  it'll  be  time 
to  quet  for  the  night,"'  as  he  took  an  old  hat  from  a  rest- 
ing place,  similar  to  that  on  which  he  had  deposited  his 
apron,  and  from  which  he  had  taken  his  coat  and  waist- 
coat. Slightly  fastening  the  crazy  door  after  him  as 
he  left  the  shop,  "Come,  my  man,"  he  continued,  "we 
will  sa  what  can  be  done  for  ye." 

Paths  lead  through  the  woods,  in  many  directions, 
to  this  Lemnian  tabernacle,  destined,  some  years  after- 
wards, to  be  dignified  with  a  place  in  the  statute  book 
of  North  Carolina.  Indeed,  something  like  a  road  was 
then  to  be  seen,  in  or  near  the  same  place  where  a  fine- 
ly graduated  turnpike  has  since  been  laid  out,  forming 
one  of  the  many  channels  of  those  streams  of  emigra- 
tion which  are  continually  pouring  from  the  eastern 
parts  of  that  State  into  the  boundless  West.  Into  one 
of  these  paths  the  medical  blacksmith  struck,  with  long 
and  rapid  strides,  little  suited  to  the  weakly  condition  of 
Welch ;  but  he  did  his  best  to  keep  up,  in  a  sort  of  a 
trot,  until  they  discovered  the  smoke  rolling  up  towards 
them  from  a  low  rude  stone  chimney,  built  without  lime, 
and,  except  the  stem  or  narrow  part  of  it,  without  mortar 
of  any  kind.  This  chimney  was  attached  to  a  small 
log  cabin,  situated  in  a  narrow  ravine  or  glen,  through 
which  gushed  down  from  the  mountain,  in  a  course  more 
direct  than  usual,  a  clear  rapid  stream.  There  was  no 
appearance  of  cultivation  around  the  cabin,  the  native 
empire  of  the  forest  being  nearly  unbroken,  except  an 
acre  or  two  of  level  ground  on  the  margin  of  the  stream, 
which  being  enclosed  with  a  fence  of  brush,  was,  as  the 
doctor  told  Welch,  his  patch  for  roasting-ears  and  pota- 
toes. Both  of  these  crops  he  had  frequently  lost  by  the 
overflowing  of  the  stream  in  violent  gusts,  to  which 
that  part  of  the  country  is  subject,  "  Faith,"  said  the 
doctor,  "  the  potata  grows  here  tolerably  anny  how;  but 
it's  a  good  root,  and  I  sometimes  thenk  of  moving  high- 
er up  the  mountain,  or  into  the  county  of  Ashe,  where 


EONEGUSKI.  153 

they  grow  as  wal,  if  not  bater,  than  in  swate  Ireland 
itsalf." 

Three  or  four  little  urchins,  as  black  and  as  dirty  as 
if  they  had  been  wallowed  in  their  father's  coal  heap, 
were  now  peeping  round  nearly  as  many  corners  of 
the  cottage,  to  whom  the  doctor  paid  no  attention. — 
"Judy,"  said  he,  as  he  passed  the  main  entrance  of  the 
building,  "  pit  on  a  pot  of  wather,  and  sind  it  into  the 
doctor's  shop." 

He  passed  on,  followed  by  Welch,  into  a  kind  of 
shed  apartment,  of  small  dimensions,  the  loose  broken 
floor  of  which  was  strewed  with  herbs  and  roots  of 
various  kinds,  and  a  few  coarse  temporary  shelves 
ornamented  one  of  its  sides,  crowded  with  vials,  some 
whole  and  some  broken,  some  empty,  and  others 
in  all  the  intermediate  stages  between  that  and  full- 
ness. Besides  these,  there  were  bladders  of  various 
sizes,  and  some  other  things,  of  whose  utility  the  inex- 
perienced Welch  was  utterly  ignorant,  and  need  not  be 
more  particularly  called  to  the  attention  of  the  refined 
reader.  In  one  corner  was  an  apology  for  a  bed,  which 
seemed  dirty  enough  to  be  offensive  to  the  nostrils,  but 
Welch's  sense  of  smelling  was  already  overpowered 
by  the  varied  effluvia  of  the  doctor's  shop,  and  was 
happily  unconscious  of  any  qualities  of  that  kind  with 
which  his  destined  sick-bed  might  be  gifted. 

"  Lie  down  hare,"  said  the  doctor,  assisting  Welch, 
to  disencumber  himself  as  far  as  was  necessary,  "  and 
I'll  take  a  drap  of  blood  from  ye  in  a  jiffy — sind  me  a 
candle,  Judy,"  he  bellowed.  But  there  was  no  great 
haste  to  render  obedience  to  his  call.  After  waiting  for 
some  time,  with  astonishing  meekness,  the  doctor  rose, 
and  went  himself  in  pursuit  of  what  he  wanted.  In 
the  mean  time,  Welch,  no  longer  excited  by  exercise, 
found  himself  growing  chilly,  which  sensation  increased 
rapidly,  until  his  frail  couch  shook  under  him,  and  its 
very  joints  creaked.  The  doctor  returned  with  a 
small  dipped  candle,  the  lower  end  of  which  was 
wrapped  about  with  rags,  and  thrust  into  the  neck  of  a 


154  EONEGTTSKI. 

bottle,  by  way  of  candlestick.  He  looked  at  his  pa- 
tient, "  By  the  howkies,"  said  he,  "  it'll  not  do  to  blade 
him  now — sind  me  the  het  wather,  Judy,  my  woman." 

A  little  half  dressed  slut  at  length  came  in,  lugging 
an  iron  pot,  nearly  as  large  as  herself,  full  of  boiling 
water. — "  Lat  it  down,  Marry,  honey,"  said  he,  "  and 
bring  me  the  tapot." 

The  little  girl  tripped  away,  and  returned  very  quickly 
with  a  piece  of  blue  ware,  which  had  once  been  a  tea- 
pot, but  was  now  deprived  of  many  of  the  constituents 
of  that  highly  useful  vessel.  It  had  no  top,  nor  was 
much  left  of  its  spout,  neither  was  the  handle  entire, 
but  such  as  it  was,  the  doctor  seized  it,  and  crammed 
into  it  a  large  quantity  of  some  herb,  to  which  he 
added  a  few  shavings  from  the  root  he  carried  in  his 
breeches  pocket,  and,  dipping  the  teapot  into  the  iron 
one,  filled  it  up  with  hot  water,  then  taking  one  of  the 
bladders  from  the  shelf,  he  laid  it  where  the  top  should 
have  been,  and  pressed  it  down  with  his  hand.  After 
holding  it  in  this  position  for  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  he 
poured  a  part  of  the  liquid  contents  of  the  teapot  into  a 
filthy  looking  unwashed  green  gallipot.  "  This,"  said 
he,  addressing  Welch,  "is  the  stuff;"  at  the  same  time 
stretching  out  his  hand  with  the  gallipot. 

Welch  was  too  sorely  pressed  with  disease,  to  refuse, 
or  question  any  proffer  of  assistance,  and  accordingly 
seized  the  gallipot,  and  eagerly  swallowed  its  contents, 
although  his  throat  was  scalded  in  the  process.  Draught 
after  draught  was  thus  administered  to  him,  in  pretty 
quick  succession.  "  It'll  mak  you  swat,"  said  the  doc- 
tor, "  like  a  bul."  But  the  doctor's  expectations  were 
not  realized ; — the  chill  passed  off,  it  was  true,  and  per- 
haps sooner  in  consequence  of  the  hot  potions  adminis- 
tered, than  it  would  otherwise  have  done ;  but  it  was 
succeeded  by  a  raging  fever,  and  a  skin  as  dry  as  the 
dust  of  summer. 

"  Now,"  said  the  doctor,  "  for  the  lancet ;"  and  he 
accordingly  fell  to  work,  with  all  the  delicate  caution 
of  a  butcher,  to  phlebotomize  his  patient.     The  skin 


EONEGUSKI.  155 

could  be  distinctly  heard  to  pop  asunder,  as  the  blunt 
instrument  separated  it,  by  dint  of  violent  pressure,  and 
Welch  roared  with  a  pain  even  more  acute  than  that 
with  which  his  left  side  was  suffering,  in  the  high 
inflammation  of  pleurisy.  A  few  drops  of  blood,  as 
black  as  the  hand  of  the  surgeon,  followed  the  with- 
drawal of  the  lancet,  but  the  large  gaping  orifice  imme- 
diately afterwards  exhibited  its  red  dry  lips,  from  which 
nothing  exuded. 

"  Bum  the  lancet,"  said  the  surgeon,  "  let  us  try 
again." 

"  Wait  a  little,"  said  Welch. 

"  There  is  no  time  to  be  loast,"  replied  the  relentless 
physician,  and  in  a  moment  more  another  gash,  almost 
as  wide,  if  not  as  deep,  as  if  it  had  been  made  with  the 
tomahawk  of  Eoneguski,  was  in  the  arm  of  Welch. 
But  had  the  Prophet  smitten  the  rock  at  Horeb  with 
as  little  success,  the  tribes  of  Israel  must  have  perished 
with  thirst ;  a  few  more  drops  of  deeply  colored  fluid 
followed,  and  then  ceased  as  before. 

"  By  the  howky,"  said  the  Irishman,  "it  shall  blade," 
passing  the  lancet  a  few  times  over  a  rough  whetstone, 
and  then  along  the  toe  of  his  own  shoe — "  It  is  sharp 
enough  now,"  he  added — "  Come,  stratch  oot  yere 
arram,  man,  and  hould  this  stick  as  if  it  were  in  a  vice." 
Poor  Welch  submitted  to  his  fate,  and  with  a  despe- 
rate plunge,  the  doctor  buried  all  that  part  of  the  lancet 
which  had  been  originally  burnished,  in  the  flesh  of 
his  patient.  The  blood  now  spouted  up  in  a  large 
dark  stream,  sprinkling  doctor,  bed,  and  patient,  with  a 
crimson  shower. 

"  It's  a  petty  for  the  bed,"  said  the  doctor,  it's  a  nice 
clane  bed,  and  no  one  has  slapt  in  it,  since  my  last 
patient,  who  desased  about  a  mont'  ago,  wid  de  same 
desase  wid  yourself,  God  help  ye,  and  is  byrred  up 
by.  Ye  will  sa  his  grave  if  ye  live  to  recover  from 
your  seekness.  I  had  half  a  mind  to  make  an  'atomy 
of  him,  but  I  had  not  the  convaniences,  so  I  gev  it 
up." 


156  EONEGUSKI. 

This  was  delightful  intelligence  for  Welch ;  but  he 
had  the  consolation  of  being  perplexed  with  no  choice 
of  alternatives.  There  was  but  one  road  before  him, 
and  along  that  he  had  only  to  press  forward  to  what 
ever  issue  it  might  conduct.  "  Ye' 11  do  for  the  night,  I 
thank,"  said  the  doctor,  after  having  staunched  the 
blood,  and  Welch  really  felt  that  he  was  benefited  by 
the  butchery  to  which  he  had  been  subjected. 

For  some  days,  however,  he  remained  quite  ill,  and 
sometimes  apprehended  that  Doctor  Wooddie  would 
soon  have  another  chance  for  an  'atomy.  But  in  pro- 
cess of  time  he  recovered,  whether  in  despite  of,  or  by 
the  assistance  of  the  blacksmith's  remedies,  it  is  difficult 
to  say;  and  had  the  honor  of  an  introduction  to  the  lady 
of  the  mansion,  who  disappointed,  in  no  degree,  the 
expectations  he  had  formed.  She  had  never  deigned 
during  his  confinement  to  look  in  upon  him,  or  offer  him 
any  of  those  attentions  so  natural  to  her  sex,  whose  hearts 
are  ever  wont  to  move  at  the  cry  of  distress.  But  when 
Welch  came  to  find,  that  the  unfavorable  conjectures, 
which  some  of  the  dialogues  overheard  by  him,  between 
her  and  the  accomplished  blacksmith,  had  enabled  him 
to  form,  were  but  small  portions  of  the  reality,  he  did 
not  regret  the  loss  of  her  society. 

Unfavorable  as  his  conclusions  were,  he  could  not 
but  perceive,  that  what  he  now  saw,  was  not  what  once 
had  been — and  that  the  uncomely  ruin  he  beheld,  might 
once  have  been  an  edifice  of  beauty — that  the  withered 
leaves  upon  which  he  looked,  might  formerly  have  been 
the  petals  of  a  very  fair  flower — that  the  odor  of  sharp 
vinegar  was  now  exhaling  from  a  cask  where  the  most 
delicious  wine  might  have  once  sent  forth  its  enticing 
flavor.  Mrs.  Wooddie  was  tall  and  spare,  her  long 
gray  hair  escaping  in  disordered  but  straight  locks, 
from  beneath  her  dirty  cap,  as  if  disgusted  with  the 
foul  prison  in  which  it  was  evidently  her  intention  to 
confine  them.  The  most  striking  features  in  her  lean 
sallow  face,  were  a  sharp  aquiline  nose,  and  a  pair  of 
piercing  black  eyes,  which  so  accompanied,  gave  to 


EONEGUSKI.  157 

her  an  expression  of  fierceness  and  hecatine  malignity. 
Her  arms  were  long  and  skinny,  and  the  veins  rose 
beneath  their  covering,  on  the  backs  of  her  hands, 
like  so  many  huge  earth  worms,  greatly  adding  to  her 
disgusting  and  hag-like  appearance. 

It  was  plain  that  the  doctor  and  his  spouse  enter- 
tained for  each  other  no  enviable  degree  of  connubial 
affection.  A  close  observer,  however,  would  have  seen 
that  it  was  an  indifference  not  co-extensive  with  their 
acquaintance  with  each  other,  for  that  would  have  been 
comparatively  a  happy  state — one  of  quiet  insensibility, 
like  that  of  a  still-born  fetus,  which  had  never  felt 
the  capacities  for  pain  and  pleasure  of  that  nature,  of 
which  it  had  partially  partaken.  But  theirs  were  the 
expiring  struggles  of  an  affection  which  had  once  been 
lively,  and  whose  strength  had  resisted  attacks  severe 
and  frequent — notwithstanding  which  it  had  continued 
to  exist — and,  after  enduring  agonies  cruel  and  pro- 
tracted, was  reduced  to  that  distressing  condition  in 
which  intervals  of  insensibility  and  suffering  alternate 
with  each  other — like  the  perfect  human  subject,  who, 
endowed  by  nature  with  a  constitution  unusually  vigor- 
ous, is,  by  casualty,  brought  through  frequent  attacks  of 
sickness,  to  the  bed  of  death,  where  tenacity  of  life 
maintains  a  long,  painful,  and  doubtful,  but  finally  un- 
successful contest  with  its  destroyer. 

Welch  was  not  long  in  finding  out  that  the  doctor 
added  to  his  other  accomplishments  that  of  being,  in 
his  own  conceit,  a  profound  politician.  A  ponderous 
file  of  the  National  Intelligencer,  which  had  been  ac- 
cumulating for  years,  swung  backwards  and  forwards 
against  the  wall  of  the  log  cabin,  as  it  was  moved  by 
the  wind. 

"  Dere's  few  houses  en  de  coonthry,"  said  the  doctor, 
"with  a  look  of  importance,  as  he  observed  Welch's  eye 
passing  in  that  direction,  "  whare  you  wud  sa  sich  a 
theng  as  dat — I  have  been  a  shubscriber  to  dat  paper 
for  tin  years,  and  not  wan  of  dem  es  messing.  I 
wud  as  shune  parrt  wid  wan  of  my  childer.     I  was 

vol.  i. — 14. 


158  EONEGUSKI. 

wan  of  de  boys  dat  farst  cried  Jifferson  and  Leeberty, 
and,  by  de  howky,  I'll  steck  by  dem  tull  de  last.  I 
have  jist  been  rading  about  dat  affair  of  de  Lippard 
and  de  Chisapake.  Och !  but  I  rackon  it'll  mak  some 
fun  yet.  We'll  tache  King  George  dat  hes  sheps  are 
not  de  only  wans  which  haave  a  right  to  sail  upon  de 
wide  ocean,  which  was  made  for  all  de  nations  upon 
de  'arth.  By  de  powers !  but  I  should  like  to  be  a 
sargeon,  or  a  sargeon's  mate,  on  boord  an  Amarican 
shep-of-war.  Don't  ye  thenk  I  wuld  be  a  nate  hand 
for  cutting  aff  a  lag  ?" 

"  My  habits  of  life  have  illy  qualified  me  to  judge  of 
these  matters,"  said  Welch,  modestly,  and  the  conversa- 
tion dropped. 


EONEGUSKI.  159 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

'Tis  as  our  healthful  food  were  turn'd  to  bane, 

And  flowers  should  fill  the  air  with  loathsome  scents — 

The  soft  south  wind  lose  its  refreshing  sweetness, 

And  the  bright  sun  benumb  the  shiv'ring  frame, 

For  woman,  formed  to  soothe  and  cheer  mankind, 

To  plague  his  heart  and  drive  all  quiet  from  him. 

Old  Play. 

There  is  a  wearisome  interval  to  the  convalescent, 
between  the  cessation  of  the  violent  tortures  of  disease, 
which  destroy  all  relish  for  life,  or  that  insensibility  to 
outward  objects  produced  by  great  debility,  and  his 
return  to  all  the  privileges  and  enjoyments  of  health. 
Long  before  his  time  he  fancies  himself  able  to  per- 
form all  the  functions  of  health,  and  is  stimulated  by 
the  desires  incident  to  it.  He  is  constantly  subjected  to 
those  restraints  of  prudence,  which  he  can  scarcely 
persuade  himself  are  necessary,  or  doomed  to  disap- 
pointment and  inconvenience,  from  rashly  breaking 
through  them.  The  fields  and  the  woods  put  on  their 
most  inviting  appearance,  and  yet  he  dare  not  venture 
upon  out-door  exercise.  Some  matter  of  business  is 
peculiarly  necessary  and  pressing,  but  he  is  unable  to 
travel  to  the  scene,  or  engage  in  it  if  he  were  there. 
Some  favorite  author  occurs  to  him,  and  solicits  his 
attention  to  its  instructive  or  amusing  pages,  but  his 
weak  eyes  and  dizzy  brain  forbid  his  looking  into  them. 
Some  choice  amusement  strikes  his  fancy  with  unusual 
charms,  but  the  voice  of  his  friends,  and  his  own  con- 
scious feebleness  unite  in  restraining  him  from  its  parti- 
cipation. Some  delicious  dish  salutes  his  nostrils  with 
its  fragrant  steam,  and  solicits  his  palate  to  an  exquisite 
gratification,  but  his  physician  tells  him  that  relapse,  if 
not  death,  lurks  within  it,  and  he  must  of  necessity 


160  EONEGUSKI. 

refrain.  Day  succeeds  day,  and  still  he  is  not  sick, 
and  yet  cannot  act  as  those  who  are  well.  He  looks 
with  envy  upon  their  freedom,  and  repines  at  his  own 
state  as  the  worst  of  slavery.  His  situation  becomes 
more  and  more  intolerable,  until,  finally,  he  assumes 
the  pleasures  and  occupations  of  health,  not  because  the 
time  has  arrived  at  which  he  ought  to  have  done  so, 
but  because  he  determines  that  he  will. 

Somewhat  such  was  the  condition  of  Welch,  who  had 
recovered  from  actual  disease,  and  was  fast  regaining  his 
strength,  when  he  was  one  day  seated  in  conversation 
with  the  doctor  in  the  presence  his  comely  spouse ; — 
we  say  presence,  for,  however  free  in  the  use  of  her 
tongue,  when  she  supposed  Welch  out  of  hearing,  this 
lady  was  commonly  very  taciturn,  and  even  sulky 
when  he  was  by,  and  rarely  intermingled  in  the  dis- 
course between  him  and  the  doctor.  It  was  a  little 
before  noon,  when,  what  was  evidently  an  imitation  of 
the  whistle  of  a  partridge,  was  heard  at  no  great  distance 
from  the  house.  Welch  was  too  well  acquainted  with 
the  note  of  that  bird  to  be  deceived,  although  the  imita- 
tion was  quite  a  successful  one.  Instantaneously  he 
saw  the  eye  of  Mrs.  Wooddie  flash  forth  its  fire,  and 
there  was  a  subdued  but  sly  expression  in  that  of  Jona- 
than, (for  that  was  his  name  of  baptism,  if  indeed  he 
ever  was  baptized,)  under  the  glance  of  his  wife. 

"  It  is  time  for  me  to  veesit  a  patient  up  by,  on  de 
mountain,"  said  he,  as  he  arose  with  ill  affected  indif- 
ference, "Mr.  Walch  ye  mun  excuse  me.  Bussness, 
ye  know,  must  not  ba  naglacted.  Judy,  I  shall  be 
back  in  time  for  denner." 

Judy  deigned  him  no  reply,  and  Jonathan  departed. 
As  soon  as  he  was  gone  Judy's  manner  became  more 
and  more  excited,  and  there  was  evidently  a  violent 
struggle  for  some  time  going  on  in  her  mind,  between 
a  desire  to  speak,  and  an  effort  at  suppression.  The 
former  at  length  prevailed: — "Mr.  Welch,"  said  she, 
sobbing,  "  I  am  the  most  abused  woman  under  the  sun." 

A  pretty  woman's  tears  are  always  interesting — an 


EONEGUSKI.  161 

amiable  woman  in  distress  never  appeals  in  vain  to  the 
heart  of  man  ;  but  tears  are  desecrated  when  found  on 
homely  or  withered  cheeks,  and  the  distresses  of  one  in 
whose  disposition  we  perceive  any  thing  diabolical, 
excite  no  pity.  Such  were  the  thoughts  of  Welch, 
at  this  most  unexpected  burst  of  pathos  and  confidence 
from  one  whom  he  had  hitherto  seen  in  the  stern 
coldness  of  marble,  scarcely  ever  speaking  except  when 
addressed.  He  knew  not  what  to  say,  and  was,  of 
course,  silent. 

"  Pardon  me,  Mr.  Welch,"  she  continued,  "  but  my 
feelings  can  no  longer  be  confined  to  my  own  bosom. 
God  only  knows  how  I  have  loved  that  ungrateful 
man.  For  him  I  left  my  father's  house,  and  have  toiled 
like  a  slave  to  assist  him  in  raising  our  family.  I 
believed  our  love  mutual,  until  he  took  up  the  trade 
of  doctor,  and  ever  since  then  there  has  been  a  great 
change  betwixt  us." 

Welch  now  felt  his  situation  little  less  perplexing 
than  when  he  had  imprudently  obtruded  himself  into 
the  family  affairs  of  Santuchee,  but  then  it  had  been 
his  own  act,  and  now  he  was  about  to  be  unwillingly 
involved  in  that  proverbially  most  delicate  of  all  matters, 
the  domestic  squabbles  of  husband  and  wife.  Things 
had,  however,  reached  a  crisis,  at  which  he  felt  con- 
strained to  say  something,  although  he  scarcely  knew 
what.  "  How,  madam,"  he  at  length  broke  silence, 
"  can  your  husband's  change  of  employment  have  af- 
fected your  happiness." 

"  Why,  Mr.  Welch,"  she  replied,  "  I  am  almost 
ashamed  to  tell  you ;  but  it  is  nevertheless  the  truth, 
that  ever  since  he  has  been  a  doctor,  whistles,  such  as 
those  you  have  just  now  heard,  and  other  strange  noises, 
are  made  near  our  house,  both  by  night  and  by  day, 
and  as  soon  as  Mr.  Wooddie  hears  them,  he  starts  up 
and  leaves  the  house.  Sometimes  in  the  doctor's  shop, 
as  he  calls  it,  I  hear  him  whispering  with  people,  and 
I  am  not  allowed  to  enter ;  and  1  am  sure  from  all  this, 
Mr.  Welch,  that  I  am  a  deeply  injured  -woman,  and 
14# 


162  EONEGUSKI. 

am  determined  to  put  up  with  it  no  longer,  if  there  is 
law  in  the  land.  I  was  a  fool  for  marrying  an  Irish- 
man, as  I  had  always  heard,  when  I  was  a  girl,  that 
they  were  not  to  be  trusted.  He  tells  me  that  it  is  only 
patients  who  consult  him,  about  things  which  they 
would  not  wish  to  make  public,  and  do  not  even  like 
to  have  it  known  they  have  consulted  a  doctor;  and 
that  the  success  of  his  business  depends  upon  his  keeping 
his  patients'  secrets.  But  lam  too  old  a  bird  to  be 
caught  with  such  chaff,  and  in  spite  of  his  impudent 
turns,  we  have  squabbled  and  quarrelled  over  the  mat- 
ter until  I  really  believe  we  have  come  to  hate  one 
another.  He  now  scarcely  takes  the  trouble  to  deny 
any  thing  I  charge  him  with ;  but  as  sure  as  Heaven  I 
will  have  justice." 

In  a  strain  like  this,  did  the  old  woman  go  on,  inter- 
rupted only  now  and  then  by  advice  given  by  Welch, 
in  no  urgent  way,  that  she  would  be  calm,  and  not 
act  precipitately  in  the  matter.  To  him  the  whole 
affair  wore  a  kind  of  tragico-comico  appearance,  which 
rendered  his  situation  exceedingly  perplexing,  and  he 
hardly  knew  whether  to  consider  his  landlady  a  sort  of 
female  Othello,  (although  from  the  want  of  a  know- 
ledge of  that  gentleman,  the  idea  was  not  so  expressed 
in  his  mind,  yet  was  it  substantially  the  same,)  a  lunatic, 
or,  in  truth,  a  pitiable  victim  of  conjugal  maltreatment. 
He  was,  at  length,  fortunately  relieved,  by  the  early 
arrival  of  the  doctor,  in  whom,  notwithstanding  a  look 
of  uneasiness  he  now  and  then  cast  towards  his  bet- 
ter half,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  behave  yourself  before 
folk,"  Welch  sought,  in  vain,  for  any  expression  of 
conscious  guilt.  Judy,  for  some  reason,  best  known  to 
herself,  did  not  think  proper  to  disregard  the  glances  of 
her  husband,  which  she  probably  understood,  and  no 
allusion  was  made,  either  to  her  conversation  with 
Welch,  or  the  signal  that  had  caused  it. 

A  storm  had  set  in  just  after  Welch's  arrival  at  the 
blacksmith's  residence,  and  continued  to  render  the 
weather  exceedingly  unpleasant  for  many  successive 


EONECUSKI.  163 

days.  But  now  the  moderated  season,  as  well  as  his 
own  improved  health,  invited  him  to  prosecute  his  return 
towards  those  scenes  dear  to  his  remembrance  on  the 
distant  Homony.  Yet  an  embarrassing  difficulty  pre- 
sented itself  to  his  mind :  he  knew  too  well  the  habits 
of  the  common  people  of  the  country,  to  suppose  that 
any  thing  would  be  expected  from  him  for  his  board 
and  lodging  at  the  house  of  the  blacksmith ;  but  the 
professional  claims  of  the  doctor  were  another  matter. 
Although  he  might  have  a  few  very  small  coins  left 
of  the  inconsiderable  stock  with  which  he  set  out  upon 
his  pilgrimage,  he  was  convinced  that  it  Avould  be  a 
greater  insult  to  the  professional  dignity  of  Wooddie  to 
make  such  a  paltry  offering,  than  frankly  to  acknow- 
ledge his  poverty,  and  promise  something  more  equal 
to  his  meritorious  services,  should  fortune  become  propi- 
tious. 

But  it  is  a  severe  trial  to  a  proud  heart  to  put  in  the 
plea  of  poverty  under  any  circumstances,  and  Welch 
felt  that  it  was  little  inferior  to  the  hardest  trial  he  had 
yet  encountered;  but  like  all  his  preceding  trials,  it  met 
him  without  leaving  any  mode  of  escape ;  he  might 
procrastinate,  but  the  difficulty  must  come  at  last,  and 
the  longer  postponed  the  greater  in  the  end.  He  there- 
fore, one  morning,  more  inviting  than  usual,  plucked 
up  courage  to  address  Wooddie  on  the  subject.  "I  am 
exceedingly  obliged  to  you,  Doctor  Wooddie,"  he  said, 
"for  the  many  kindnesses  you  have  rendered  me,  and 
regret  much  that  it  is  not  in  my  power — " 

"  I  know  it  man,"  said  the  benevolent  blacksmith, 
interrupting  him,  "  I  did  not  expact  it — I  knew  ye  had 
no  money  when  I  first  laid  eyes  on  ye — I  tould  Judy  so. 
She  wunted  me  to  tarn  ye  adreft,  saying  dat  I  cud  not 
affoord  it,  and  dat  she  waud  haave  notheng  to  do  wath 
sich  a  pace  of  extravagance  as  pheesicing  and  fading 
a  lazy  idle  vagabone,  while  our  own  childer  were  half 
naked  and  starrving.  But  I  tould  her,  by  the  howky, 
dat  starrve  or  no  starrve,  it  shud  niver  be  sid  dat  Doch- 
tor  Jonathan  Wuddy  had  tarned  away  a  seek  bodee  fram 


164  EONEGUSKI. 

hes  doore,  and  dat  by  Jasus  we  were  levin  g  in  a  Chres- 
tian  counthry,  and  I  wud  shuner  coot  de  troat  of  ivery 
mudder's  son  of  my  own  childer,  aye,  and  har's  into  de 
barrgin,  dan  sind  ye  away  tull  ye  were  wanst  more 
hale  and  hearty." 

"  I  am  ten  thousand  times  obliged  to  you/'  said  Welch, 
"  but  fear  I  shall  never  see  the  day  when  I  shall  be  able 
to  give  you  any  worthy  proof  of  my  gratitude." 

"  Not  a  nudder  ward  abouth  et,"  said  the  Irishman, 
"  a  gintleman  is  alwaise  fully  paid  by  de  dade  itself, 
whin  he  diz  a  ginerous  action." 

"  You  will  pardon  me,"  said  Welch,  "  if  I  allude  to 
a  delicate  subject;  but  great  allowances  must  be  made 
for  a  gratitude  such  as  mine." 

"  Ha  dune  wid  your  gratitude  and  dilicacy,  I  say," 
replied  the  doctor;  "  divil  a  bit  of  dilicacy  shud  dere 
iver  ba  betune  a  dochtor  and  his  patient." 

"  But  it  is  not  about  myself  I  am  going  to  speak,  it 
is  about  Mrs.  Wooddie." 

"  Och  !  blood  and  'ounds,  and  what  can  ye  have  to 
do  wid  Mrs.  Wuddy?"  cried  the  doctor,  laughing,  "dat 
is  a  dilicate  bissness  indade." 

"The  subject  I  allude  to,  doctor,"  said  Welch,  "is 
urgent,  and  I  must  again  apologize  for  mentioning  it, 
but  my  regard  for  you,  sir,  is  my  only  inducement." 

"  Why  what  de  divil  can  be  de  maning  of  all  this?" 
said  the  doctor,  at  this  time  manifesting  without  any 
affectation,  both  surprise  and  concern — "Mrs.  Wuddy — 
and  dilicacy — and  regard  for  me.  Take  care,  my  man, 
Mrs.  Wuddy  is  nather  yong  nor  beautiful,  but  if  ye 
dare  to  insinnivate  anny  theng  to  the  prajudice  of  har 
charracter,  by  de  howlies  I'll  lay  ye  biside  de  fallow 
onder  de  tray  yonder,  widout  de  halp  of  a  pleurishy." 

"Good  Heavens!  doctor,"  said  Welch,  somewhat 
alarmed  at  the  difficulty  in  which  he  was  involving 
himself,  "  I  know  nothing,  and  can  say  nothing,  to  the 
prejudice  of  Mrs.  Woody's  character,  but  you  must 
excuse  me  for  saying  that  I  am  afraid  yours  will  not 
so  well  bear  investigation." 


EONEGUSKI.  165 

"Och!  by  de  powers,  and  is  that  all,"  cried  the  doc- 
tor, and  the  woods  rang  again  with  his  obstreperous 
laughter  ;  "  if  it's  my  charracter  ye  are  for  invistiga- 
ting,  fire  away  Flannagan — but  stop,  by  de  howlies, 
Dochtor  Wuddy  is  a  gintleman.  Pray  sir,  what  haave 
ye  to  say  agin  de  charracter  of  Dochtor  Wuddy?" 
setting  his  arms  a  kimbo,  and  placing  himself  before 
Welch,  in  an  attitude  of  mock  defiance. 

"  I  have  already  told  you,  doctor,"  said  Welch,  with 
gravity,  after  getting  rid  of  the  smile,  which  the  doctor's 
manner  had  irresistibly  provoked,  "  that  this  is  no  joke. 
Your  own  happiness  and  that  of  your  family  are  surely 
not  matters  to  be  trifled  with." 

"  And  pray,  sar,"  said  the  doctor,  again  becoming 
serious,  "  what  right  have  ye  to  know  anny  theng  of 
de  hapiness  of  mysilf  or  famely?" 

"  I  must  proceed  doctor,"  replied  Welch,  "  coolly, 
even  at  the  risk  of  your  displeasure,  as  the  only  way 
in  which  I  can  make  some  slight  return  for  your  kind- 
ness. It  has  not  escaped  my  notice  that  the  happiness 
of  Mrs.  Wooddie  is  destroyed  by  jealousy,  and  my  own 
observation  has  furnished  some  very  slight  evidence  of 
the  justness  of  her  apprehensions." 

"  Thin  gev  me  lave  to  till  you,"  said  the  doctor, 
promptly,  "  dat  dose  whech  came  oonder  yere  notice 
has  desaved  ye,  as  dey  haave  dune  Mrs.  Wuddy ;  and 
sence  ye  have  mintioned  de  subject,  Mr.  Walch,  I  will 
be  fray  to  confass  dat  dat  theng  has  plagued  me  sadly. 
It  is  thrue,  dat  we're  leving  like  cat  and  dug,  but  what 
am  I  to  du,  de  wumman  wul  not  hare  rason.  I  must 
leve  by  my  profassion,  and  mun  doctor  famales,  no  less 
than  males,  and  de  wan  has  quite  as  manny  sacrets  as 
de  ither ;  and  bekase  I  am  not  always  revaling  to  Mrs. 
Wuddy  de  meesteries  of  my  shope,  why  notheing  will 
du  but  de  wumman  mun  be  jallous.  For  a  long  time 
I  striv  to  convence  her,  but  finding  at  last  dat  sha  wud 
not  hare  rason,  I  gev  it  up,  and  jist  lit  har  haave  har 
own  tirrivies  about  it." 


166  EONEGUSKI. 

"  And  do  you  say,  then,  doctor,  that  these  signals 
which  are  heard  from  time  to  time,"  inquired  Welch, 
"  are  entirely  professional,  mid  have  nothing  to  do  with 
the  subject  of  Mrs.  Wooddie's  apprehensions?" 

"  Upon  de  'onor  of  a  gintleman  it  is  so,"  replied 
the  doctor. 

With  this  assurance,  and  the  permission  of  the  par- 
ties, Welch  succeeded  before  leaving  the  house  of  the 
kind  and  hospitable  blacksmith,  in  settling  the  domestic 
disquiet  which  had  so  long  prevailed,  and  Wooddie 
admitted  that,  if  the  present  state  of  things  could  only 
last  for  a  single  fortnight,  it  would  be  more  than 
a  compensation  for  all  the  services  he  had  rendered 
Welch,  for  it  was  in  fact  a  deliverance  from  domestic 
purgatory. 

Having  thus,  after  the  highest  example,  left  peace  in 
the  place  of  his  sojourn,  although  it  existed  not  in  his 
own  bosom,  Welch  once  more  sallied  out,  alone  and 
defenceless,  to  encounter  the  adventures  of  a  long  and 
difficult  journey.  None,  however,  very  material  befel 
him,  until  just  as  he  was  approaching,  with  throbbing 
heart  and  excited  feelings,  the  place  of  his  destination, 
when  he  encountered,  like  an  apparition,  the  person 
of  his  persecutor,  whose  exhausted  patience  he  had 
counted  on  having  long  since  conducted  him  back  to 
Eonee.  But  finding  the  relentlessness  of  his  pursuit, 
and  having  made  a  most  unhoped  for  and  miraculous 
escape  from  the  uplifted  rifle  of  Eoneguski,  he  was 
convinced  that  here  there  could  be  no  rest  for  the  sole 
of  his  foot,  but  that  in  continued  flight  he  must  find  his 
only  hope  of  safety. 

Chance,  or  something  else,  however,  conducted  him 
near  to  the  spring  of  Robert  Aymor  in  his  alarmed 
retreat,  and  the  sweet  tones  of  a  well  known  voice,  as 
it  poured  forth  the  notes  of  a  plaintive  song,  compelled 
him,  like  that  of  the  ancient  Syren's,  to  linger  near  a 
scene  of  danger. 

Imperceptibly  to  himself,  he  drew  nearer  and  nearer. 


EONEGUSKI.  167 

until  he  was  in  the  actual  presence  of  the  being  he 
most  loved  on  earth,  but  to  pass  from  her  again  like  a 
fleeting  vision  of  the  fancy.  He  left  her,  to  perform  in 
his  own  person,  the  destiny  of  the  first  shedder  of 
human  blood,  wandering  hither  and  thither  in  the  con- 
tinual apprehension  that  whomsoever  he  met  would 
slay  him,  and  forever  denied  repose  by  the  continual 
lashings  of  conscience. 


168  EONEGUSKI. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Farewell !  a  word  that  hath  been,  and  must  be 
A  sound  that  makes  one  linger — yet — farewell. 

Byron. 

His  departure  from  home  upon  a  distant  excursion, 
is,  to  every  youth,  an  era  indelibly  marked  in  the 
calendar  of  memory.  Feelings  are  then  stirred  into 
action,  which,  for  the  first  time,  disclose  their  hitherto 
unknown  existence.  These  may  vary,  according  to  the 
circumstances  or  object  of  the  journey;  but  whatever 
they  may  be,  in  kind  there  is  an  intensity  in  their 
degree  which  is  never  afterwards  known,  how  frequent 
soever  they  may  appear.  It  is  then  he  first  disco- 
vers what  hold  each  simple  object  about  the  paternal 
domain  has  acquired  upon  his  heart,  and  the  pain  he 
must  suffer  in  tearing  it  away.  If  his  departure  be  in- 
voluntary, the  operation  will  be  more  severe,  but 
even  when  otherwise,  it  is  by  no  means  trivial.  The 
wounds  thus  inflicted  will  be  felt  more  keenly,  and  heal 
more  slowly,  in  some  dispositions  than  in  others,  but  in 
all  a  scar  is  left  for  the  notice  of  memory. 

We  now  return  to  Gideon  Aymor,  whom  we  left 
some  chapters  back,  preparing  for  a  journey  with  Eo- 
neguski,  to  the  Indian  country,  and  even  his  bold  and 
gay  disposition  was  not  exempt  from  feelings  that  almost 
caused  him  to  repent  of  his  engagement.  But  pride,  as 
is  often  the  case,  united  with  other  principles  of  action, 
to  spur  him  on  to  performance. 

In  conformity  with  the  arrangement  of  the  preceding 
evening,  being  furnished  with  a  timely  meal,  through 
the  tender  solicitude  of  Atha,  and  his  second  sister,  a 
year  or  two  younger,  he  took  an  affecting  leave  of  his 
family,  to  set  out  for  the  appointed  place  of  meeting  with 


EONEGUSKI.  169 

Eoneguski.  His  were  the  feelings  of  a  spirited  youth, 
of  his  habits  of  life,  entering  on  his  first  adventure, 
and  some  of  them  manifested  themselves  in  a  certain 
tightness  of  the  throat,  which  impeded  articulation  and 
deglutition,  and  a  disagreeable  titillation  of  the  nostrils, 
as  he  thought  of  parting  with  those  objects  of  affection, 
amongst  whom  nearly  every  hour  of  his  existence  had 
hitherto  been  spent.  Demonstrations  of  sorrow  were 
much  more  unequivocal  on  the  other  side — the  younger 
children  entreated  "brother  Gideon,"  in  those  moving 
accents,  of  which  infancy  only  is  capable,  "  not  to 
leave  them ;"  and  the  elder  ones,  including  Atha,  wept 
profusely,  and  begged  him,  "  if  he  would  go,  to  take 
care  of  himself,  and  return  soon." 

Dolly  wiped  her  eyes,  and  blew  her  nose,  loud  and 
oft,  and  said,  among  other  things,  interrupted  by  sobs — 
*•  I  was  always  willing,  Giddy,  for  you  to  see  the  world, 
but  drot  my  skin  if  I  think  there's  much  to  be  learnt 
amongst  the  Injuns.  Now  if  you  were  going  to  Rolley 
I  should  be  right  glad,  for  there  you  might  learn  some- 
thing, but  if  I  was  Bob  Aymor  you  should'nt  budge 
one  step  with  this  Injun,  as  clever  as  he  is.  But  he's 
always  for  his  gratitude,  and  sich  notions — I  wonder 
what  good  his  gratitude  ever  done  him  ?  But  it's  use- 
less for  me  to  talk  to  him — he's  as  obstinate  as  a  pig, 
and  if  you  try  to  drive  him  one  way,  he's  sartain  to  go 
another.  But  Giddy,  my  son,  your  poor  mother  will 
be  longing  to  see  you,  so  do  pray  come  back  soon,  and 
I'll  have  a  nice  suit  made  for  you  out  of  the  cloth  that 
Patty  Stevens  wove  for  me.; — and  poor  creature  you 
hav'nt  even  took  leave  of  her — she'll  be  most  dead  to 
see  you  before  you  come  back." 

Having  exchanged  the  parting  embrace  with  all  the 
other  members  of  the  family,  Gideon  turned  to  his  father, 
who  had  maintained  a  calm  dignified  silence,  while  his 
son  was  receiving  the  clamorous  expressions  of  regret 
at  his  departure.  But  Robert  Aymor's  was  a  heart  full 
of  the  kindest  affections,  and  there  was  now  in  the  quiet 

VOL.  I. 15. 


170  EONEGUSKI. 

of  his  countenance  a  shade  of  melancholy,  which  in- 
dicated that  he  was  no  indifferent  spectator  of  the  scene. 

Language  is  inadequate  to  express  the  feelings  that 
agitate  the  heart  of  a  benevolent  father,  when  his  son 
passes,  for  the  first  time,  beyond  the  reach  of  the  paternal 
eye,  and  where  the  paternal  arm  can  no  longer  be 
stretched  forth  for  his  assistance. 

"I  will  walk  a  little  with  you,  Gideon,"  said  Aymor, 
as  he  lead  the  way  to  the  door.  Gideon  followed. — 
u  You  saw,  my  son,"  said  the  old  man,  as  they  walked 
along,  with  more  feeling  in  his  voice  than  Gideon  had 
supposed  the  occasion  warranted — "that  I  gave  you 
rather  an  unwilling  permission  to  accept  the  invitation 
of  yon  worthy  savage;  but  you  are  now  at  an  age 
when  I  feel  it  is  proper  you  should  begin  to  think  and 
act  for  yourself:  besides,  you  know  that  I  am  bound 
hand  and  foot  to  the  protector  of  my  life,  and  could 
refuse  him  nothing  that  had  the  shew  of  reason  to 
support  his  claim.  You  might,  by  withholding  your 
own  consent,  have  relieved  me  from  the  difficulty. 
But  that  is  past,  and  it  is  now  too  late  for  us  to  retract. 
I  do  not  mean  to  blame  your  choice.  No,  I  remember 
too  well  what,  at  your  age,  would  have  been  my  own 
under  like  circumstances,  and  feel  that  it  is  natural. 
But  it  is  yet  in  your  power  to  gratify  me,  by  making 
your  stay  in  the  Indian  country  as  short  as  possible.  I 
have  been  told,  and  partly  believe  it,  that  the  savage 
life  is  so  natural  to  man,  that  even  the  most  civilized 
readily  fall  into,  and  learn  to  prefer  it.  Now,  I  have 
flattered  myself  with  a  better  destiny  for  my  children, 
and  though  we  Jive  in  the  wilds,  have  endeavored  to 
improve  their  minds,  and  fit  them,  as  far  as  I  was  able, 
to  fill  any  station  to  which  Providt  nee  may  call  them  ; 
therefore,  my  son,  stay  not  among  these  savagfs  any 
longer  than  may  be  necessary  slightly  to  gratify  curi- 
osity, and  enable  you  to  depart  without  offending  the 
quick  jealousy  of  those  to  whom  we  are  so  deeply  in- 
debted.     The  time  is  not  far  distant  when  the  savages 


EONEGUSKI.  171 

must  yield  the  possession  of  the  country  into  which  you 
are  going,  to  the  white  people ;  it  may  not  be  amiss, 
then,  in  your  travels  through  it,  to  cast  your  eyes  about 
you,  and  fix  them  upon  those  spots  on  which  settlements 
can  most  advantageously  be  made,  should  it  suit  your 
own  convenience,  or  that  of  your  friends,  at  some  future 
day,  to  establish  there  a  possession. 

"  I  believe,  Gideon,"  continued  the  old  man,  after  a 
pause,  "that  there  is  no  place  where,  what  we  are  told 
is  the  root  of  all  evil,  may  not  be  found  useful  to  a  man, 
and  the  want  of  a  little  of  it  may  sometimes  convert  a 
slight  difficulty  into  a  very  serious  one.  Here  are  ten 
silver  dollars,  which  I  would  not  advise  you  to  spend 
without  necessity — keep  them  for  a  rainy  day,  and  do 
not  let  them  burn  holes  in  your  pockets;  and  remember, 
my  son,  wherever  you  go,  that  you  came  of  honest  pa- 
rents, and  in  whatever  situation  you  may  find  yourself 
that  you  are  a  free-born  American,  and  a  North  Caro- 
linian. Endeavor  to  avoid  fights  and  quarrels,  but  if 
any  one  rushes  on  you,  never,  if  you  are  the  son  of 
Robert  Aymor,  shew  the  white  feather.  Firmness 
and  bravery  are  necessary  to  get  through  the  world, 
and  if  a  man  exhibits  them  in  his  first  contest,  there  are 
ten  chances  to  one  that  he  never  has  another.  But  if 
once  he  plays  the  craven,  he  will  either  be  kicked  about 
all  the  rest  of  his  days,  or  must  fight  many  hard  battles 
to  convince  the  bullies,  of  which  the  world  is  full,  that 
the  first  mistake  was  an  accident.  But  firmness  and 
bravery,  as  I  said,  are  needful  to  get  along  with  the 
Indians  above  all  people ;  they  are  like  hounds — if  you 
run  from  them  they  are  certain  to  follow  and  tear  you 
to  pieces,  whereas,  if  you  stand  still,  and  put  on  a  bold 
face,  each  one  is  afraid  to  be  the  first  to  lay  hold  of  you. 
Once  more,  my  boy,  come  back  to  us  as  soon  as  you 
can — take  care  of  yourself — and,  in  all  situations,  be- 
have like  a  true-hearted  American."  He  wrung  the 
hand  of  his  son  with  a  hearty  grasp — closed  his  lips 
firmly  together,  and  strode  off  in  the  direction  of  his 
own  house. 


172  EONEGUSKI. 

Gideon  did  not  venture  a  reply,  nor,  indeed,  did  one 
seem  expected.  He  drew  the  back  of  his  hand  across 
his  eyes,  to  remove  the  moisture  gathering  there,  and, 
as  soon  as  his  father's  back  was  turned,  commenced 
charming  away  his  grief  by  the  music  of  his  dollars, 
as  he  dropped  them  from  one  hand  into  the  other.  It 
was  the  first  time  he. had  ever  been  master  of  any  such 
sum,  and  felt  himself  inexhaustibly  rich.  The  moun- 
tains of  his  native  State  had  not  then  began  to  yield  their 
treasures  to  the  miner,  and  few  and  scattered  were  the 
pieces  of  the  precious  metals  which  found  their  way 
into  the  purses  of  the  mountaineers. 

Having  at  length  deposited  his  wealth  in  his  pocket, 
and  readjusted  his  knapsack  and  rifle,  Gideon  was  bend- 
ing himself  to  a  brisker  gait,  and  breasting,  with  active 
step,  the  side  of  the  Homony  Mountain,  as  the  cheerful 
rays  of  the  sun,  ushering  in  a  clear  spring  morning, 
gilded  the  peaks  towering  loftily  above  him.  He  was  a 
little  behind  his  appointed  time,  and  was  endeavoring 
to  regain  that  which  is  proverbially  irrecoverable, 
when  a  shout,  clear  and  shrill,  multiplied  by  echo,  be- 
yond computation,  told  him  his  companion  had  become 
impatient,  and  was  chiding  his  delay.  He  answered 
the  call,  though  not  so  loudly  as  it  had  been  made,  and 
a  reply,  in  a  tone  still  lower,  assured  him  he  had  been 
heard.  A  few  moments  more  brought  him  where  the 
hospitable  savage  had,  as  on  the  preceding  day,  prepared 
for  him  a  repast;  but  Gideon  declined  partaking  of  it,, 
making  him  with  difficulty  understand  how  impossible 
it  would  have  been,  according  to  the  customs  of  the 
white  people,  for  him  to  have  left  his  father's  house 
upon  a  distant  journey,  without  joining  the  family  in 
the  morning  meal. 

The  travellers  were  soon  on  their  way,  and  Gideon 
could  not  but  remark  an  expression  of  lively  satis- 
faction in  the  countenance  of  Eoneguski,  as  he  turn- 
ed his  face  westwardly.  They  had  not  walked  more 
than  a  mile  or  two,  when  they  came  into  the  road  lead- 
ing from  Morristown,  since  called  Asheville,  the  county 


EONEGUSKI.  173 

seat  of  Buncombe,  to  Waynesville,  before  mentioned,  as 
the  county  seat  of  Haywood.  Gideon  was  not  ignorant 
of  this  portion  of  their  road,  for  curiosity  had  already 
carried  him  with  his  father  two  or  three  times  to 
Waynesville,  to  witness  that  caricature  of  one  of  the 
most  dignified  of  human  institutions,  a  County  Court, 
in  a  frontier  settlement.  There  was  every  probability 
they  would  witness  another  of  these  edifying  spectacle?, 
as  the  approaching  week  was  the  regular  term  of  its 
session  at  Waynesville.  Having  once  fallen  into  the 
Morristown  road,  they  could  no  more  have  lost  it  until 
it  conducted  them  to  Waynesville,  had  they  even  been 
entire  strangers.  But  to  Eoneguski  it  was  a  familiar 
way,  and  Gideon  remembered  each  of  the  numerous 
fords  of  the  Homony,  as  he  successively  came  to  them 
in  following  the  highway,  which  was  conveniently 
made  to  pass  along  the  inclined  plain  through  which  the 
stream  had  cut  its  serpentine  course :  or,  rather,  which  it 
had  formed,  by  depositing  first  on  one  side  and  then  on 
the  other,  the  freight  of  earth,  timber,  mud,  and  gravel, 
with  which  it  was  charged  in  floods  of  rain,  when  it 
poured  down  furiously  from  its  parent  mountain.  This 
unerring  guide  conducted  the  travellers  to  the  top  of 
the  ridge,  which  then  sloped  off  gently  into  the  valley 
of  the  Pigeon  River,  about  one  mile  distant.  Gideon 
did  not  fail  to  perceive  the  immense  elevation  of  the  bed 
of  this  stream  over  the  French  Broad,  into  which  the 
Homony  disembogued  itself  within  two  or  three  miles 
of  his  father's  residence.  The  inference  was  irresistible 
from  the  fact,  that  in  the  previous  part  of  their  journey, 
a  distance  of  twelve  or  fifteen  miles,  they  had  been  con- 
tinually ascending  a  pretty  steep  acclivity,  of  course 
varying  greatly  and  frequently  in  its  angle  with  the 
horizon,  while  their  descent,  which  had  not  much  ex- 
ceeded a  mile,  was  comparatively  easy.  He  therefore 
concluded  that  it  was  only  an  indentation  in  the  crown 
of  the  mountain,  (and  not  a  valley  between  two  moun- 
tains,) worn  there  in  time  by  torrents  of  heavy  rain, 
swelling,  occasionally,  the  generally  moderate  stream 
15* 


174  EONEGUSKI. 

of  the  Pigeon,  and  forming  its  bed.  Had  this  opinion 
needed  confirmation,  circumstances  were  not  wanting. 
When  they  reached  the  western  side  of  the  river,  Gi- 
deon observed  that  the  trees  were  covered,  both  on  the 
body  and  limbs,  with  a  short  green  moss,  and,  notwith- 
standing the  great  depth,  and  apparent  fertility  of  the 
soil  in  which  they  were  rooted,  they  bore  a  dwarfish, 
unhealthy  appearance,  the  natural  effects  of  an  elevated 
alpine  atmosphere.  Neither  was  there  here  the  small- 
est indication  of  the  presence  of  Spring,  although  she 
had  made  considerable  advances  at  many  places  behind 
them. 

They  had  not  progressed  far  on  the  western  side  of 
Pigeon  River,  when  Eoneguski  cast  his  eye  towards 
the  sky,  and  said,  "  There  is  a  sound  of  rain — I  feel  the 
breath  of  the  coming  storm." 

Gideon,  it  is  true,  perceived  that  the  tops  of  the  trees 
on  the  higher  spurs  of  the  mountains  were  considerably 
agitated,  and  occasionally  a  sound  could  be  heard,  which 
can  be  best  explained  by  comparing  it  to  the  distant  surf 
of  the  ocean ;  but  the  sun  set  in  beauty,  and  there  was 
scarcely  a  cloud  to  be  seen. 

"  It  will  not  be  a  night  for  the  open  air,"  Eoneguski 
again  broke  silence — "  you  must  ask  lodging  from  some 
of  your  white  brethren :  and  they  will  not  deny  it  to  the 
red  man  also." 

Another  short  distance  brought  them  to  the  residence 
of  a  new  settler,  who  appeared  to  be  comfortable.  His 
door  was  open  to  the  travellers,  without  distinction  of 
complexion.  They  were  admitted  to  the  hospitalities  of 
his  table,  and,  whatever  might  be  said  of  other  portions 
of  his  fare,  Irish  potatoes  of  a  better  quality,  or  prepa- 
red in  a  more  savory  manner,  could  not  have  graced 
the  board  of  an  epicure.  Nothing  remarkable  befel  our 
travellers,  who  slept  soundly  until  morning,  when  their 
ears  were  assailed  by  the  rain  beating  loudly  and  fast 
upon  the  roof,  to  which  their  attic  lodging  brought  them 
in  close  proximity.  The  fate  of  many  a  traveller  who 
has  since  passed  through  that  pluvious  region,  was 


EONEOUSKI. 


175 


theirs,  and  for  four  successive  days  the  rain  continued 
to  pour  down,  with  little  or  no  cessation.  They  were 
forced  to  remain  unwilling  pensioners  upon  the  un- 
grudging- hospitality  of  their  host.  The  steep  moun- 
tain side  in  front  of  his  residence  had  become  one  vast 
cataract,  and  the  valley  through  which  their  journey 
lay  was  converted  into  the  bed  of  a  deep  rapid  stream, 
continually  rushing  with  eager  haste  to  swell  the  in- 
creasing current  of  Richland  Creek.  The  impetuous 
fluid,  as  it  ran  foaming  and  dashing  in  every  direction, 
mingled  with  the  voice  of  the  winds,  filled  the  air  with 
an  endless  variety  of  sounds — sometimes  it  was  a  low 
monotonous  murmur,  like  that  of  a  multitude  of  wild 
beasts  growling  over  their  prey — then  it  was  the  loud 
eager  howl  of  an  army  of  famished  wolves — now  it 
was  the  startling  roar  of  a  den  of  lions,  impatiently 
expecting  their  banquet — and  then  was  it  the  shrill 
hissing  of  a  multitude  of  serpents. 

Amid  these  ravings  of  the  storm  without,  the  tra- 
vellers, with  the  regular  inmates  of  their  hospitable  re- 
treat, gathered  more  closely  around  the  cheerful  hearth, 
and  experienced  that  agreeable  sensation  which  accom- 
panies the  proximity  of  danger,  with  the  consciousness 
of  security  against  it.  It  was  thus  they  consoled  them- 
selves for  the  real  disappointment  they  experienced  in 
the  interruption  of  their  journey.  For  two  nights  their 
sleep  was  comfortable  and  undisturbed,  but  on  the  third, 
a  contemptible  foe,  rendered  formidable  by  numbers,  en- 
tirely banished  repose  from  their  pillows,  and  made 
them  solicitous  for  a  change  of  quarters.  An  army  of 
rats,  driven  by  the  incessant  and  chilling  rain  from  their 
own  habitations,  but  illy  defended  against  such  an  enemy, 
took  refuge  in  the  same  retreat  with  the  sojourners,  and, 
according  to  their  nature,  slumbering  in  the  day  time, 
held,  at  night,  their  disgusting  orgies  in  every  part  of 
the  habitation,  and  even  upon  the  very  beds  and  persons 
of  its  inmates.  There  was  no  fire-place  in  the  loft 
occupied  by  the  travellers,  and  they  sought  partial  relief 
by  setting  a  lighted  candle  in  the  middle  of  the  floor. 


176  EONEGUSKI. 

But  as  soon  as  they  fell  asleep,  the  vermin  assailed  the 
candle,  and,  gnawing  it  around,  caused  it  to  fall  over 
and  extinguish  itself — when,  making  lawful  prize  of  the 
remainder,  they  renewed  their  gallopings,  and  aroused 
the  sleepers. 

During  the  fifth  night  the  wind  blew  from  the  north- 
west, and  the  odious  rain  ceased  to  descend,  and,  by 
morning,  the  floods,  like  thoughtless  spendthrifts,  had 
exhausted  their  superabundant  resources,  and  were 
calmly  flowing  along  in  their  wonted  channels. 


EONEGUSKI.  177 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


An  Indian  by  a  white  man's  side, 
Alternate  plac'd    *     +     *     *     * 

Yamoyden. 

There  is  a  feeling  of  renovation  and  elasticity  with 
which  a  traveller  resumes  his  suspended  journey ;  and 
in  no  situation  is  it  so  signally  perceived,  as,  when 
bending  his  way  homeward,  the  suspension  has  been 
occasioned  by  natural  interpositions,  altogether  insur- 
mountable, and  to  which  he  has  been  obliged  to  chide 
his  spirit  into  reluctant  submission.  A  delightful  sense 
of  freedom  expands  the  bosom  of  the  pilgrim,  recently 
weather-bound,  when  he  finds  himself  once  more  tread- 
ing at  large  upon  the  earth,  and  pressing  onward,  in 
the  pursuit  of  his  journey.  His  heart  goes  bounding 
before  him,  as  it  were,  toward  those  objects  of  affection 
he  is  striving  to  reach. 

With  such  feelings  did  Eoneguski,  after  the  cessation 
of  the  rain,  resume  his  way  towards  the  Indian  country, 
and  Gideon  was,  to  a  considerable  extent,  a  participa- 
tor in  his  pleasure. 

The  rain,  for  the  last  few  hours  of  its  fall,  had  been  con- 
verted into  ice  as  soon  as  it  descended  upon  the  branches 
of  the  trees,  and  other  objects,  whose  capacity  for  the 
transmission  of  caloric  rendered  them  fit  for  the  pur- 
pose. Early  in  the  morning  the  appearance  presented 
was  beautifully  picturesque.  All  nature  clothed  in  her 
vitrious  livery,  seemed  a  vast  fairy  creation,  sparkling 
with  a  lustre  which  belonged  not  to  this  world;  but 
when  the  rays  of  the  rising  sun  fell  upon  it,  and  were 
immediately  scattered  abroad,  in  refracted  and  reflected 
splendor,  the  dazzled  eye  was  overcome,  and  the  ima- 
gination bewildered  with  the  rich  variety  of  unwonted 
beauty. 


178  EONEGUSKI. 

Eight  miles  of  journeying,  over  the  worst  of  roads, 
brought  our  travellers  to  Waynesville,  situated  on  a 
steep  ridge,  at  the  foot  of  which  flowed  Richland  Creek. 
The  recent  rains  and  frosts  had  rendered  the  streets,  or 
rather  the  street,  of  Waynesville,  almost  impassible. 
The  rich  soapy  earth,  of  which  the  surface  was  com- 
posed, for  a  considerable  depth,  suffered  those  who 
walked  over  it,  to  sink  three  or  four  inches  at  every 
step,  and  adhered  afterwards  with  the  most  obstinate 
tenacity  to  whatever  came  in  contact  with  it,  whether 
shoes,  moccasins,  bare  feet  or  clothing.  This  sea  of 
mud  had  been  wrought  up  to  a  state  of  regular  fluidity 
by  the  multitude  of  passengers  on  foot  and  on  horse- 
back. 

The  sun  had  melted  into  vapor  the  pageant  of  the 
morning,  and  it  was  no  more. — Like  an  unprincipled 
lover  to  the  lip  of  beauty,  his  kisses  had  been  fatal  to 
the  inconsiderate  object  on  which  they  were  lavished, 
and  by  whom  they  were  so  eagerly  and  joyously  re- 
ceived. And  yet  the  scene  at  Waynesville  was  highly 
picturesque,  or  at  least  would  have  been  so  to  one 
who  saw  it  as  a  novelty.  Comparatively  speaking, 
to  few  of  our  readers  would  it  have  been  familiar.  It 
was  Tuesday  of  the  county  court  week,  and  here  were 
mingled  in  simple  and  unpolished  familiarity,  the  rug- 
ged pioneer  of  civilized  society,  his  unabashed  wife 
and  daughters — the  red  skinned  aboriginal,  with  his 
squaw — and  here  and  there  a  thick  lipped  African,  male 
or  female,  with  their  ceaseless  bursts  of  merriment  and 
song,  and  cheerful  laughter-loving  countenances.  In 
every  direction  around  the  village  might  be  seen  horses, 
bearing  on  their  backs  the  saddles  of  men  or  women, 
fastened  by  the  bridle  to  stake,  tree,  or  fence,  according 
to  the  convenience  or  whim  of  the  owner,  waiting,  with 
drooping  head  and  half  shut  eyes,  the  lapse  of  the  tedious 
hours  their  riders  might  think  proper  to  consume  in 
business  or  pleasure,  regardless  of  their  privation,  both 
of  food  and  water.  Now  and  then  some  truant  steed, 
availing  himself  of  an  insecure  fastening,  by  the  careless 


EONEGUSKI.  179 

owner,  or  of  some  defect  in  the  bridle,  or  of  his  own 
peculiar  skill  in  such  matters,  had  broken  from  his 
confinement,  and  approached  some  dosing  animal  of  his 
own  species,  and,  smelling  at  him,  or  giving  him  a 
shrewd  nip  with  his  teeth,  caused  him  to  utter  a  loud 
squeal,  with  a  threatening  elevation  of  one  of  the  hind 
feet.  Having  performed  this  prank,  after  the  manner 
of  a  school-boy  upon  some  lounging  companion,  he 
would  kick  up  his  heels  with  a  triumphant  snort,  and 
gallop  off  to  prosecute  the  same  teazing  process  upon  a 
new  subject.  Except  occasional  occurrences  of  this 
sort,  and  now  and  then  salutary  neighings,  upon  the 
arrival  of  another  individual,  or  company,  these  ani- 
mals might  be  seen  standing  as  motionless  the  livelong 
day  as  the  objects  to  which  they  were  secured.  But 
as  it  wore  towards  night,  a  low  whinny,  at  the  sound  of 
any  approaching  footstep,  indicated  their  impatience  to 
be  gone. 

Not  thus  uniform  and  quiet  in  their  deportment  were 
the  human  creatures  assembled  at  Waynesville,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  variety  and  noise  were  their  prevailing 
characteristics.  Perhaps  few  occasions  ever  present 
themselves  on  which  the  philosopher  would  have  found 
a  map  for  the  study  of  human  nature  in  its  undisgui- 
sed traits,  more  conveniently  spread  out  before  him. 
Probably  nothing  would  have  presented  itself  as  more 
strikingly  obvious  than  the  great  difference  between 
two  portions  of  the  human  race,  who,  with  about  the 
same  practical  habits  of  civilization  and  refinement, 
had  the  one  risen  from  a  lot  of  deeper  ignorance  and 
barbarism,  and  the  other  descended  by  gradual  progres- 
sion from  a  state  of  knowledge  and  polish,  once  the 
boast  of  its  ancestors.  The  vulgarity  of  the  one  was 
manifestly  the  effect  of  ignorance,  and  although  it  might 
offend,  did  not  shock.  It  was  seen  to  be  the  cold  dic- 
tate of  necessity  to  express  an  idea,  for  which  other  lan- 
guage was  wanting,  which  idea  was  itself  the  sugges- 
tion of  no  impure  passion  or  filthy  imagination,  but 
occurred  in  the  ordinary  pursuit  of  the  business  of  life, 


180  EONEGTJSKI. 

and  excited  therefore  in  the  mind  no  sympathetic  sense 
of  guilty  shame.  In  the  other,  there  was  a  grossness 
at  once  shocking  to  delicacy — an  evident  gusto  and 
guilty  pleasure  which  the  speaker  took  in  it — it  reflect- 
ed the  impure  passions  of  his  own  heart,  and  had  a 
brightness  of  coloring  imparted  to  it  by  a  polluted  ima- 
gination— the  mysterious  sympathies  of  depraved  nature 
were  awakened — and  virtue  felt  the  infusion  of  poison- 
ous contagion,  and  was  self-abased  and  insulted,  as  we 
should  be  by  the  ruffian  who  cast  dirt  upon  our  clean 
and  spotless  garments.  In  short,  in  the  latter  case,  both 
the  speaker  and  the  hearer  had  eaten  of  the  tree  of 
knowledge,  and  between  them,  as  with  our  first  pa- 
rents, after  their  fatal  transgression,  the  fig  leaves  were 
necessary  for  the  preservation  alike  of  comfort  and 
purity.  In  the  other,  it  was  perceived  that  their  eyes 
had  not  been  opened,  and  they  knew  not  that  they  were 
naked,  and  there  was  therefore  neither  guilt  nor  shame, 
to  awaken  sinful  or  painful  sympathies. 

In  general,  the  savage,  like  the  child,  in  his  progress 
in  knowledge,  first  learns  that  which  is  innocent  or 
substantially  useful,  without  attaining  to  that  which 
enables  him  to  refine  upon  and  multiply  crime,  and, 
consequently,  to  increase  its  seductiveness,  its  power 
of  mischief,  and  its  guilt.  In  declining  civilization, 
nearly  all  the  knowledge  which  tended  to  purify  and 
ennoble  the  heart,  has  gradually  run  off,  leaving  its 
dregs  mingled  with  practical  depravities,  to  which  they 
have  given  a  more  vigorous  growth.  In  the  one,  ani- 
mal love  is  in  a  natural,  and,  consequently,  healthy 
state,  and,  by  necessity,  therefore,  is  neither  inordi- 
nate nor  improperly  directed,  a  result  to  which  exer- 
cise, and  simplicity  of  diet  in  no  slight  degree  contri- 
bute. In  the  other,  imagination  having  been  once 
roused  into  action,  and  but  illy  supplied  with  suitable 
food,  busies  itself  in  throwing  a  luxurious  drapery 
round  forbidden  pleasures,  and  inflames  the  passions 
by  its  warmly  colored  paintings,  and,  to  this  effect  diet 
more  highly  stimulating  in  its  nature,  and  more  glut- 


EONEGUSKI.  181 

tonously  consumed,  greatly  add.  These  tributary  cir- 
cumstances of  themselves,  also,  present  striking  points 
of  difference  in  the  two  classes  of  character  under  con- 
sideration. Beside  these,  music,  with  all  its  magic 
power  to  rouse,  direct,  control,  or  allay,  the  various 
passions  of  the  human  heart,  is  scarcely  known  to  the 
one,  while  in  a  considerable  degree  of  perfection  it  is 
always  found  with  the  other.  The  accurate  know- 
ledge of  money,  with  a  passion  correspondent  to  it, 
which  would  seem  to  be  in  itself  entirely  artificial,  but 
whose  seeds  are  found  in  every  heart,  with  greater  or 
less  proneness  and  capacity  for  putting  forth  and  grow- 
ing, strongly  distinguishes  the  lapsarian  from  refine- 
ment, from  the  improving  savage. 

But  of  all  the  distinguishing  characteristics  between 
them,  not  one  is  more  striking  than  the  relative  bearing 
of  the  softer  sex  towards  the  other.  He  who  had  visited 
Waynesville  on  the  day  we  speak  of,  would  have  seen 
the  numerous  white  women  there  assembled,  laughing 
and  talking  in  high  treble,  with  easy  freedom,  among 
the  men,  and,  although  the  parental  relationship  might 
have  imposed  some  restriction  upon  the  unmarried  ones, 
yet  the  presence  of  a  husband  would  have  been  entirely 
unknown  from  any  difference  it  produced  in  the  demea- 
nor of  a  wife.  So  easy  and  unrestrained  were  their 
manners,  that  they  could  not  have  been  more  so  in  a 
circle  exclusively  female.  Turning  his  attention  from 
these  towards  a  group  of  squaws,  (for  in  such  exclusive 
groups  would  he  generally  have  found  them,)  our  spec- 
tator would  have  seen  them  conversing  calmly  and 
noiselessly,  and  if  any  thing  occasionally  stirred  their 
mirth,  a  slight  illumination  of  the  countenance,  and  an 
exhibition  of  the  teeth  through  the  parted  lips,  would 
be  the  only  indication.  This  only  would  he  have  seen 
if  they  thought  themselves  unobserved,  for  the  approach 
of  a  man,  even  of  their  own  race,  would  fix  their  tongues 
in  marble  silence,  and  especially  that  of  her  who  chanced 
to  acknowledge  him  as  her  husband. 

Nor  was  the  demeanor  of  the  men  less  marked  wTith 

vol.  i. — 16. 


182  EONEGUSKI. 

difference.    Although  the  Indians  walked  about  among 
the  white  people  with  obvious  freedom  from  the  slightest 
apprehension  of  personal  danger,  there  was  yet  in  their 
deportment   that   caution,   and   apparent    self-restraint, 
which  always  characterize  him  who  is  suspicious  of 
being  watched,  and  apprehensive  of  ridicule  or  con- 
tempt.     Single  individuals   might  be  seen  threading 
their  way  in  various  directions  through  the  crowd,  in 
perfect  silence,  or  exchanging  some  very  short  obser- 
vation with   any  who  chancecr  to  address  them,  each 
arrayed  in  a  manner  peculiar  to  himself,  with  articles, 
some  more    primitive,  and  some  more  modern,  min- 
gled in  various  proportions,  according  to  the  whim  or 
luck  of  the  wearer,  in  the  collection  of  his  wardrobe. 
Here  might  be  found  one   with  straight  black  locks 
flowing  about  his  shoulders  in  their  native  freedom — 
there  another  with  a  printed  cotton  pocket  handkerchief 
worn  after  the  manner  of  a  turban,  with  a  manifest 
attempt  at  a  display  of  taste,  and  a  conceited  sense  of 
ornamental  effect,  increased  doubtless  in  his  estimation, 
by  one  of  the  corners  hanging  down  some  length  behind, 
in  travesty  resemblance  of  a  queue.     In  another  place 
might  be  marked  one  with  a  new  wool  hat,  most  buck- 
ishly  adjusted  upon  the  top  of  his  head,  attracting  obser- 
vation by  the  paper  and  twine  yet  remaining  in  which 
it  had  been  enveloped  by  the  manufacturer.     Others 
were  visible  in  small  parties  regaling  themselves  from 
a  gourd  or  tin  cup,  with  a  supply  of  what  was  called 
whiskey,  or  brandy,  from  one  of  the  wagons  or  carts, 
whose  owners,  in  spite  of  the  difficulties,  lust  of  gain 
had  induced  to  drive  over  roads  nearly  perpendicular, 
and  otherwise  scarcely  passible,  to  supply  the  urgent 
demand,  they  knew  would  be  found  for  their  merchan- 
dise, at  immense  profits  to  themselves.     Still  the  males 
and  females  constituted  separate  parties,  and  the  latter 
were  very  little  noticed  by  the  former.     Long,  how- 
ever, would  the  Cherokees  drink  before  it  could   be 
seen  by  their  manner  that  they  were  not  engaged  in  a 
matter  of  the  utmost  solemnity — few  were  their  words, 


EONEGUSKI.  183 

and  although  a  smile  might  occasionally  light  up  their 
countenances,  no  uproarious  laughter  was  heard  among 
them. 

Not  so  with  the  white  men — laughter,  mirthful  shouts, 
and  loud  and  unrestrained  talking,  were  almost  as  indi- 
cative with  them  of  the  purpose  to  drink,  as  of  the  "  for- 
gone conclusion/'  and  by  a  sort  of  volition,  the  animal 
spirits  were  set  in  rapid  motion  previous  to  any  impulse 
given  them  by  that  which  doubtless  owes  its  most  com- 
mon name  to  its  effect  upon  them.  Frequent  were  the 
coarse  jests  and  entendres,  almost  too  plain  to  be  called 
double;  and  some  of  them  addressed  to  the  women, 
who,  far  from  being  abashed  or  offended,  rather  took 
pride  in  a  ready  apprehension,  and  generally  repaid 
with  an  interest,  which  turned  the  laugh  against  the 
discomfited  disciple  of  Momus.  Rare,  indeed,  was  the 
character  who  disdained  altogether  the  rites  of  Bac- 
chus, on  the  contrary  his  temporary  altars,  the  tails  of 
carts  and  wagons,  scattered  over  the  court-yard,  were 
most  devoutly  thronged,  and,  among  the  numberless 
hats,  a  bonnet  might  occasionally  be  seen,  whose  wearer 
was  no  less  assiduous  and  constant  at  the  shrine  than  the 
male  worshippers  among  whom  she  mingled.  The 
myrtle  and  vine  have  ever  been  celebrated  by  the  poets 
as  luxuriously  intertwined ;  and  it  is  sufficient  to  say, 
that  if  their  union  was  preserved  with  less  regard  to 
elegance  at  Waynesville  than  at  many  other  places, 
there  was  no  actual  disruption,  and  the  Paphian  divinity 
was  not  wholly  neglected. 

The  heart  of  the  philanthropist  must  have  bled — the 
towering  plume  of  national  pride  been  lowered  on  the 
crest  of  any  intelligent  patriot,  who  witnessed  the  dis- 
gusting display  of  morals  and  manners  which  that  time 
and  place  presented.  But  the  reader  must  remember  it 
is  many  years  since. 

It  is  not  to  be  imagined  after  all,  however,  that  there 
was  any  great  moral  triumph  on  the  part  of  our  red 
brethren.  No!  among  them,  also,  "the  fire-water" 
produced  its  natural  effect;  but  the  subjects  of  its  in- 


184  EONEGUSKI. 

fluence  were  not  so  numerous  as  among  the  whites, 
while  the  proportions  as  to  sexes  were  much  the  same. 
But  it  was  not  a  greater  aversion  to  drunkenness  on 
their  part  that  produced  the  difference  ;  for  except  such 
of  the  Cherokees  as  had  embraced  the  Christian  religion, 
they  had  no  conception  of  drunkenness  being"  any  vio- 
lation of  moral  propriety,  on  the  contrary,  they  threw 
the  sacred  pall  of  oblivion  over  every  act  perpetrated 
during  one  of  its  paroxysms — except  homicide.  Hence 
it  is,  that  among  the  white  people,  drunkenness  has  a 
more  debilitating  effect  upon  the  moral  constitution, 
than  among  the  Indians.  In  the  one  it  is  a  mere  bodily 
disease,  affecting  the  mental  powers,  and  when  the  indi- 
vidual recovers,  his  self-respect  is  in  no  degree  dimin- 
ished, and  conscience  has  not  been  wounded,  and,  con- 
sequently, is  no  way  enfeebled  by  the  debauch.  The 
other,  offending  and  wounding-  conscience  while  he  is 
steeping  his  senses  in  the  stupifying  draught,  has  for 
one  of  his  objects  the  administering  an  opiate  to  this 
troublesome  monitor,  who,  when  he  comes  to  himself, 
wakes  with,  and  turns  revengefully' upon  him.  She 
tells  him  that  he  has  brutalized  and  degraded  himself — 
that  he  is  morally  defiled  in  the  eye  of  Heaven,  antJ' 
disgraced  in  the  sight  of  man.  Stung  with  remorse,  he 
drinks  again— not  like  the  savage,  for  mere  indulgence 
of  appetite — but  to  drown  the  clamors  of  conscience, 
as  a  thing  more  easy  and  expeditious  than  to  appease 
her  by  repentance.  In  the  natural  man  the  pride  of 
conscious  rectitude,  (the  best  known  substitute  for  true 
religion,  as  a  security  against  vicious  practises,)  when 
once  thro vvn  down,  can  not  be  at  once  restored  to  its 
original  perpendicularity,  and  every  prostration  dimin- 
ishes for  a  time,  at  least,  the  angle  of  its  subsequent 
elevation,  until,  at  last,  it  can  no  more  be  raised  from 
its  degradation ;  and  thus  does  the  perpetration  of  one 
known  crime  always  diminish  the  safety  of  the  moral 
fabric,  while  the  same  act  committed  by  him  who 
esteems  it  not  a  crime,  leaves  his  moral  condition  com- 
paratively unchanged. 


EONEGUSKI.  185 

What  then,  it  may  be  asked,  (returning  to  the  sub- 
ject from  which  we  have  been  unconsciously  lead,) 
rendered  the  Indians  at  Waynesville  more  sober  than 
the  white  people?  The  answer  is — prudence.  Con- 
scious of  the  secret  workings  of  their  own  hearts,  they 
had  no  confidence  in  the  amicable  shew  made  by  the 
whites.  They  were  like  the  stranger  upon  Mount  Ve- 
suvius, who,  having  read  or  heard  of  the  sudden  and 
treacherous  bursts  of  destruction  from  its  vine-clad  and 
peaceful  sides,  sweeping  individuals,  cities,  the  works 
of  nature,  and  of  art,  into  general  ruin — walks  with 
caution  amid  the  seeming  safety.  Besides,  they  dared 
not  trust  themselves ;  they  knew  that  their  own  hearts, 
like  so  many  magazines  of  combustibles,  were  ready  to 
ignite  by  the  slightest  spark,  and  that  unless  an  ever 
watchful  prudence  was  there  to  ward  them  off,  such 
sparks  must  inevitably  find  their  way  thither.  They 
were  not  ignorant  that  in  the  explosion  which  would 
ensue,  ruin  might  overtake  some  of  their  white  neigh- 
bors, but  they  knew  also  that  like  the  magazines  before 
mentioned,  the  destruction  of  themselves,  the  instruments 
of  mischief,  would  be  certain  and  effectual.  But  there 
was  a  minor  object  of  apprehension,  that  experience 
had  taught  them  was  neither  slight  nor  unlikely  to  be- 
set them,  should  they,  by  intoxication,  deprive  them- 
selves of  the  power  of  resistance :  and  that  was  being 
seduced  by  the  whites  into  "trades,"  as  they  were  cal- 
led, in  which  most  decided  advantages  were  certain  to 
be  on  one  side.  These  considerations  were  sufficient 
to  restrain  the  bulk  of  them  from  the  indulgence  of  an 
inclination,  common,  perhaps,  to  the  whole.  But  a 
few,  by  a  sort  of  tacit  permission  of  the  rest,  ventured, 
in  the  confidence  that  the  presence  and  number  of  their 
comrades  would  be  an  ample  security  against  any  of 
the  dreaded  evils.  This  privilege  of  self-indulgence 
was  not  the  result  of  accident  or  of  special  favor,  but 
was  conferred  in  regular  order  of  distribution  upon 
each  member  of  the  party,  at  different  times,  in  their 
respective  turns. 
16* 


186  ITONEGTTSia. 

When  an  Indian  becomes  drunk  it  affects  him  very 
much  as  it  would  a  white  man,  save  that  his  usual 
gravity,  being  contrasted  with  his  present  wildness  and 
levity,  makes  them  appear  the  more  extravagant,  and 
he  seems  to  be  in  fact  transported  into  greater  excesses 
by  his  animal  spirits,  from  their  being  usually,  as  it 
were,  corked  up  like  fixed  air  in  a  bottle.  For  a  time 
he  retains  a  consciousness  that  he  is  exposing  him- 
self, as  well  as  of  the  cause,  and  in  the  midst  of  his 
vagaries  is  ever  crying  out  in  a  mingled  tone  of  rap- 
ture and  apology,  "Whiskey  too  much."  When  his 
companions  find  he  is  becoming  too  riotous  or  danger- 
ous, they  without  hesitation  bind  him  as  they  would  a 
madman,  until  the  paroxysm  is  over ;  and  the  subject 
of  this  treatment,  when  he  comes  to  himself,  is  neither 
offended  nor  considers  himself  ill-used. 

Such  is  a  partial  description  of  the  spectacle  which 
awaited  Gideon  and  Eoneguski  on  their  arrival  at 
Waynesville.  Most  of  the  circumstances  were,  how- 
ever, but  repetitions  of  what  they  had  both  before  wit- 
nessed at  the  same  place.  Here,  for  a  time,  they  sepa- 
rated, each  mingling  with  the  people  of  their  respective 
complexions.  Among  the  one  Eoneguski  saw  not  an 
individual  whom  he  did  not  personally  know,  and  among 
the  other  Gideon  met  with  a  few  acquaintances,  who 
were  not  slow  in  bringing  in  others  to  widen  the  circle. 
This  proved  to  be  a  heavy  and  unthought  of  tax  upon 
the  purse  of  Gideon.  Having  witnessed  the  temporary 
consequence  which  others  acquired  in  the  company,  by 
calling  for  a  fresh  supply  of  liquor r  at  their  own  ex- 
pense, with  the  ostentation  and  liberality  so  natural  to 
youth,  he  followed  the  example.  The  tide  of  populari- 
ty that  flowed  in  upon  him  in  consequence  of  his  first 
display,  intoxicated  him  much  more  than  the  liquor  of 
which  he  partook,  and  the  flattery  thus  purchased 
served  only  to  give  him  an  appetite  for  more.  Partly 
through  the  influence  of  spirits,  and  partly  from  the 
commendations  which  became  more  and  more  fulsome, 
as  those  who  uttered  them  grew  more  intoxicated,  (until 


EONEGUSKI.  187 

they  were  belched  forth  with  the  fumes  of  liquor  in  his 
face  by  the  maudlin  wretches  who  hung-  upon  and  ca- 
ressed him) — Gideon  was  led  on  by  degrees  until  two 
of  the  ten  hard  dollars  given  him  by  his  father,  with  so 
many  lessons  of  prudence,  had  taken  their  flight  from 
his  pocket,  and  he  was  fast  falling  into  that  state  in 
which  the  rest  would  soon  unconsciously  follow. 

Eoneguski  beheld  with  anxiety  what  was  going  on. 
He  remembered  the  solemn  pledge  he  had  given  to 
Aymor  for  the  safety  of  his  son,  and  already  began  to 
repent  his  rashness ;  for  here  was  a  dangerT  and  a  serious 
one  too,  which  it  would  be  folly  for  him  even  to  attempt 
averting.  Such  an  effort  would  certainly  offend  the 
associates  of  Gideon,  and  perhaps  bring  upon  himsell 
their  fatal  vengeance  ;  and  there  was  no  small  reason 
to  apprehend  that  under  existing  circumstances  even 
Gideon  would  resent  any  endeavor  to  control  his  ac- 
tions, and  repel  it  with  insult.  There  was  in  his  own 
situation  what  would  give  to  such  an  insult  ten- fold 
force;  and  greatly  increase  his  difficulty  of  acting  pro- 
perly under  it.  His  reception  among  his  own  people 
at  Waynesville  had  been  such  as  to  chafe  his  pride,  and 
render  him  dissatisfied.  They  had  inquired  after  the 
fate  of  John  Welch,  and  soon  discovered  that  Eone- 
guski had  not  been  successful  in  his  undertaking.  It 
flew  about  from  ear  to  ear,  and  a  contemptuous  curl  of 
the  upper  lip  of  each  listener  had  not  escaped  his 
observation.  One  or  two  drunken  squaws  had  gone  so 
far  as  tauntingly  to  ask  him,  "  Where  is  the  blood  of 
the  Leech!"  To  add  to  his  unhappiness,  he  had 
learned  that  his  absence,  or  some  other  cause,  had  so 
preyed  upon  the  spirits  of  Eonah,  that  the  old  chief 
must  ere  long  find  his  home  among  the  graves  of  his 
ancestors.  Stung  to  agony  with  his  own  private  vexa- 
tions, Eoneguski  was  yet  sensible  to  the  claims  of 
friendship  and  the  demands  of  duty,  but  he  was  at  a 
loss  for  suitable  means  of  executing  what  he  knew  to 
be  desirable.     Satisfied  of  the  inutility,  and  even  impru- 


188  EONEGUSKI. 

dence,  of  a  direct  personal  application,  he  endeavored 
to  seek  out  a  suitable  agent. 

Upon  the  arrival  of  the  travellers  at  Waynesville, 
of  the  many  knots  or  assemblages  of  persons,  one 
consisting  partly  of  Indians  and  partly  of  whites,  was 
gathered  around  a  figure  in  an  Indian  costume,  who 
was  regaling  them  with  the  shrill  music  of  a  fife. — 
But  the  feathers  of  a  peacock  were  not  sufficient  to  en- 
able the  jackdaw  to  pass  for  a  genuine  bird  of  Juno, 
neither  could  the  Indian  dress  enable  Mercury  (for 
that  was  the  name  of  the  person  of  whom  we  speak)  to 
pass  for  a  Cherokee.  His  complexion  had  been  borrowed 
from  a  hotter  sun,  shining  upon  plains  more  arid  than 
those  of  America,  and  he  or  his  ancestors  must  at  some 
period  have  slaked  their  thirst  at  one  of  the  many  streams 
which  pour  their  waters  into  the  mysterious  Niger. 
Upon  seeing  Eoneguski  his  eye  sparkled  with  delight ; 
the  tones  of  the  fife  ceased  abruptly,  and  he  hastily 
pressed  through  the  crowd  towards  him.  It  was  with 
an  effort  that  he  suppressed  a  cry  of  pleasure,  or  the 
most  clamorous  salutations ;  and  it  is  doubtful  whether 
he  would  have  succeeded  in  so  doing  unrebuked  by  the 
calm,  dispassionate  manner  of  Eoneguski.  In  spite  of 
all  his  efforts,  he  exclaimed  with  a  laugh,  which,  with 
a  white  man,  would  have  been  more  expressive  of  mirth 
than  of  joy,  "  I'm  so  glad  to  see  yer." 

The  Indian  deigned  no  reply,  but  leading  the  way  to 
a  more  retired  spot,  the  following  interview  took  place 
between  them. 

"You  have  forgotten,  Mercury,"  said  Eoneguski, 
"  the  lessons  of  Eonah.  You  remember  not  that  you 
have  been  adopted  among  the  Oewoehee,  and  that,  like 
them,  you  should  let  the  fire  burn  in  concealment  be- 
neath the  ashes." 

"  I  do  my  best,"  said  Mercury,  laughing,  "  but  it's  of 
no  use.  Yer  see  there's  no  sich  thing  as  making  an 
Injun  out  of  a  nigger.  I'm  downright  glad  to  see  yer, 
and  I  can't  help  showing  it." 


EONEGTJSKI.  189 

"Is  Eonah  well  ? — Is  the  oJd  warrior  as  when  I 
parted  from  him  ?"  inquired  Eoneguski,  changing  the 
subject  of  conversation. 

Mercury  shook  his  head  mournfully,  and  then  look- 
ing significantly  at  Eoneguski,  "  No  !"  he  said,  "there 
must  soon  be  a  new  chief  of  the  Eonee." 

Eoneguski  was  silent.  His  countenance  was  calm, 
but  his  bosom  heaved  not  in  respiration  with  its  wonted 
tranquillity.  After  a  long  pause,  he  twice  opened  his 
lips  to  speak,  but  as  often  closed  them  again,  under  the 
influence  of  some  powerful  restraint.  At  length  he 
inquired,  "  Is  there  any  voice  from  Tesumtoe  ?" 

"  There  is  none,"  replied  Mercury,  "but  they  say  no 
news  is  good  news,  and  I  reckon,"  looking  archly  at 
Eoneguski,  "the  Little  Deer  is  well.  I  hope,  tor  her 
sake,  that  the  crows  and  buzzards  owe  us  a  dinner,  and 
that  John  Welch  won't  come  any  more,  to  trouble  the 
people  of  Eonee." 

They  continued  for  some  time  to  converse,  Eoneguski 
just  throwing  in  an  observation,  or  asking  a  question 
now  and  then,  (as  the  boy  blows  his  breath  upon  his 
toy  windmill,  and  then  looks  calmly  on,  entertained 
with  its  rapid  rotation,  until  its  slackening  speed  gives 
notice  that  a  new  impulse  is  required,)  while  the  garru- 
lous African,  in  his  loose,  disjointed  manner,  communi- 
cated to  him  by  degrees  all  that  it  most  concerned  him 
to  know  of  what  had  transpired  since  his  departure 
from  the  Indian  country.  At  length  they  separated; 
the  one,  like  Orpheus,  to  charm  the  ear  of  dulness  with 
his  music,  and  the  other  to  mingle  with  the  people  of 
his  tribe. 

The  sable  personage  with  whom  Eoneguski  thus 
held  discourse,  was  a  slave  of  his  father,  who  had  been 
promoted  for  his  sagacity  and  supposed  fidelity  to  the 
confidential  post  of  '  Linkister,'  as  it  is  call<  d  in  corrup- 
tion, it  may  be  of  linguist.  However,  in  the  part  of  the 
country  of  which  we  are  writing,  the  term  linkister  is 
received  and  adopted  both  by  Indians  and  white  people, 
and  applied  by  them  to  the  person  who  acts  as  interpre- 


190  EONEGUSKI. 

ter  in  intercourse  between  the  two.  This  very  respon- 
sible station  Mercury  had  for  some  years  enjoyed,  more 
to  the  profit,  it  is  said,  of  the  white  people  who  had 
dealings  with  it,  than  to  that  of  the  tribe  for  whom, 
as  well  as  for  himself,  his  master,  as  their  chief,  allowed 
him  to  act.  The  white  people,  it  is  thought,  found 
him  among  the  moderns,  as  the  divinity,  after  whom,  it 
is  probable,  he  was  named,  is  reputed  to  have  been 
amongst  the  ancients — a  safe  ally  in  schemes  of  kna- 
very, and  one  to  whom  a  timely  application,  made  in  a 
suitable  manner,  would  be  attended  with  the  most  for- 
tunate results.  But  the  Cherokees  confided  implicitly 
in  their  linkister,  and  were  probably  fleeced  accord- 
ingly. 

His  situation  in  life  had  rendered  Mercury  a  most 
extraordinary  compound  of  the  white  man,  the  Indian, 
and  the  negro,  in  habits  and  moral  character ;  his  coun- 
tenance wore  by  turns  the  expression  of  contemplative 
philosophy,  the  inexpressive  calmness  of  stoicism,  and 
the  thoughtless  levity  of  the  Epicurean. 

It  was  to  this  personage  that  Eoneguski  determined 
to  apply,  in  the  line  of  his  profession,  to  negotiate 
between  himself  and  Gideon.  It  justly  occurred  to 
him  that  Mercury's  better  knowledge  of  the  character 
of  the  white  people  would  enable  him  more  successfully 
to  approach  Gideon,  while  in  turn  the  white  man's 
pride  and  jealousy  would  be  less  awakened  by  an  inti- 
mation from  an  humble  slave,  than  from  the  haughty 
son  of  a  Cherokee  chief.  After  coming  to  this  determi- 
nation, before  Eoneguski  could  find  Mercury,  another 
person  had  extricated  Gideon  from  his  immediate  diffi- 
culty. 


EONEGUSKI.  191 


CHAPTER  XX. 

One  venerable  man,  belov'd  of  all, 

****** 

flow  rev'rend  was  the  look  he  bore, 
This  gentle  Pcnnsylvanian  sire. 

Campbell. 

There  is  in  almost  every  community  some  indi- 
vidual particularly  distinguished  for  his  piety  and 
benevolence — like  Abram,  in  Canaan,  or  Lot,  in  Sodom. 
Heaven,  even  more  merciful  now  than  in  ancient  days, 
seems  willing  not  only  to  spare,  but  to  visit  with  con- 
tinual manifestations  of  its  favor,  (doubtless  for  their 
sakes,)  each  portion  of  the  earth  in  which  Providence 
has  cast  them.  Like  a  candle  in  a  dark  night,  the 
solitary  light  of  one  of  these  blessed  beings  is  seen 
amid  the  moral  gloom  by  which  he  is  surrounded  at  an 
immense  distance,  and  cheers  the  heart  of  the  beholder 
with  its  unpretending  lustre.  In  the  presence  of  such 
men  the  most  hardened  profligacy  is  awed  into  re- 
spectful silence,  and  he  who  laughs  at  the  terrors  of 
the  Almighty  in  theory,  finds  his  spirit  rebuked  and 
subdued  by  even  so  inconsiderable  a  reflection  of  his 
moral  perfections. 

The  vicinity  of  Waynesville  was  favored  with  the 
presence  of  one  of  these  guardian  angels.  Among  the 
first  to  choose  for  himself  a  place  of  rest  in  the  evening 
of  his  life,  upon  the  fertile  margin  of  Richland  Creek, 
was  Moses  Holland.  What  had  been  his  early  history 
we  shall  not  now  have  leisure  to  inquire.  Suffice  it  to 
say,  those  who  looked  upon  him  in  the  decline  of  his 
manhood  would  have  perceived  that  his  youth  could 
have  claimed,  if  not  the  very  first,  at  least  a  high  place 
among  the  rustic  heroes  of  his  day,  and  that  he  need 


192  EONEGUSKI. 

not  have  shunned  in  any  athletic  strife  the  stoutest 
among  them.  Raising  their  eyes  from  his  large  muscu- 
lar limbs,  his  round  body,  deep  chest,  and  broad  brawny 
shoulders,  they  would  have  seen  a  clear,  bright  eye, 
and  thin  firmly  compressed  lips,  declaring,  even  in 
silence,  that  in  a  righteous  quarrel  the  spirit  would  be 
found  as  willing  as  the  flesh  was  strong.  But  when 
his  countenance  was  more  closely  considered,  they 
would  have  read  in  its  expression  the  short  summary 
of  the  divine  law — Love  to  God,  and  benevolence  to  all 
his  creatures.  Long  bleached  locks  flowed  down  his 
back  and  shoulders,  surmounted  by  an  ancient  beaver, 
from  which  time  and  use  had  entirely  worn  away 
the  nap,  leaving  it  quite  smooth,  and  in  some  places 
even  glossy.  The  brim  was  broad,  and  turned  up  at 
the  two  sides,  coming  to  a  point  in  front,  and  forming 
with  the  hinder  part  a  triangle.  This  hinder  part 
was  also  a  little  turned  up  by  reason  of  the  cape  of  his 
coat  continually  pressing  against  it.  The  rest  of  his 
costume  was  a  plain  homespun  suit,  consisting  of  coat, 
waistcoat,  and  breeches,  of  the  quality  common  at  this 
day  among  the  peasantry  in  all  parts  of  the  State.  The 
coat  was  of  the  cut  vulgarly  called  shad-bellied— the 
waistcoat  pockets  hung  down  very  low,  rendered  more 
remarkable  by  a  triangular  scollop  cut  out  of  the  lower 
part  of  the  front — the  breeches  buttoned  very  tight 
below  the  knee,  finely  displaying  a  well  turned  calf 
and  ancle  above  a  thick-soled  low-quartered  shoe,  fas- 
tened with  a  large  white  metal  buckle.  The  old  man 
stooped  but  little,  yet  he  did  not  disdain  the  aid  of  a 
stan\  formed  of  substantial  hickory,  with  an  iron  ferule 
at  the  bottom,  to  which  it  tapered  from  a  globular  head 
about  two  inches  in  diameter,  of  the  same  entire  piece 
with  the  rest  of  the  stick,  and  worn  as  smooth  and 
nearly  as  highly  polished  as  ivory,  by  the  continual 
attrition  and  perspiration  of  the  hand. 

It  is  needless  to  inquire  what  had  on  this  day  attracted 
Mr.  Holland  to  Waynes ville,  yet  he  was  there — perhaps 
to  testify  his  respect  for  the  institutions  of  his  country — 


EONEGUSKl.  193 

perhaps  to  transact  some  private  business  of  his  own — 
perhaps  to  befriend  some  widow,  who,  in  the  midst  of 
her  bereavement,  was  driven  by  necessity  to  apply  to 
the  county  court  for  authority  to  snatch  the  shreds  of 
her  husband's  property,  probably  rendered  his  by  his 
marriage  with  her,  or  by  her  subsequent  industry  or 
frugality,  from  the  grasp  of  wretches  who  commonly 
hover  over  the  proprietary  remains  of  a  dead  man,  like 
the  vulture  over  the  dead  brute — perhaps  in  some  other 
way,  to  obey  the  promptings  of  a  benevolent  heart. 
Gratifications  for  a  benevolent  temper  are  scattered  by 
Providence  widely  and  thickly  over  every  quarter  of 
the  earth,  and  its  possessor  never  long  wants  occasions 
for  one  of  those  feasts  of  the  heart  which  only  such 
as  he  can  know. 

It  was  but  a  short  time,  therefore,  before  Mr.  Holland 
espied  Gideon,  and  partly  through  inquiries  and  partly 
by  observation,  comprehended  his  situation.  The  deter- 
mination to  attempt  his  deliverance  followed  close  upon 
the  discovery  of  his  difficulties.  The  crowd  respectfully 
gave  way  before  him  as  he  walked  up  to  Gideon ;  "  Young 
man,"  he  began  in  a  singing  tone  of  voice,  peculiar  to 
himself,  "  you  must  go  home  with  me." 

"  Why,  who  the  devil  are  you  ?"  said  Gideon,  with 
his  hat  twisted  out  of  all  shape,  the  hind  part  being  be- 
fore, and  conceitedly  turned  up,  setting  his  arms  a  kimbo 
and  turning  round  upon  Mr.  Holland,  in  a  blustering 
manner. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  he,  "  you  shall  have  a  good  din- 
ner, and  a  cup  of  coffee  at  night,  and  a  bed  to  lie  on, 
and  that's  more  nor  you'll  get  at  Waynesville." 

"  And  how  far  do  you  live  from  here  ?"  said  Gideon, 
with  a  face  almost  purple  with  liquor. 

"  Not  more  nor  two  miles,"  replied  the  old  man. 

"Well,  you  are  a  kind  old  codger,  any  how," ,  said 
Gideon,  with  a  simial  attempt  to  look  pleased,  "  give 
me  your  hand. — Come,  take  a  drink  with  us." 

"  Excuse  me,  my  friend,"  replied  Mr.  Holland, 

vol.  i. — 17. 


194  EONEGUSKI. 

have  a  great  deal  better  liquor  nor  this,  at  my  house, 
so  come  along  with  me." 

"  Oh,  as  for  that,"  cried  Gideon,  after  the  manner  of 
an  irritated  drunkard,  "I  don't  care  a  d — n  for  your 
liquor,  except  in  the  way  of  fellowship;  (hiccoughing) 
and  if  you  are  two  proud  to  drink  with  me,  why  you 
may  just  be  off  as  quick  as  you  like." 

"  You  are  the  son  of  Bob  Aymor,  I  hear,"  said  the 
persevering  old  man;  "  I  have  the  pleasure  of  knowing 
your  father." 

"  Well,  do  you  now  ?-"  said  Gideon,  with  an  idiotic 
laugh,  followed  by  an  awkward  attempt  to  settle  his 
countenance  into  gravity ;  "  and  what  may  your  name 
be?" 

"  My  name,"  replied  the  old  gentleman,  "is  Moses 
Holland." 

"  I  think  I've  heard  of  you  before,"  said  the  young- 
ster, standing  with  his  legs  wide  apart  to  prop  himself 
up,  and  his  mouth  hanging  half  open,  whilst  his  head 
dangled  about  from  side  to  side  in  the  imbecility  of 
intoxication.  "  They  tell  me  that  you  are  a  mighty 
religious  man,  and  don't  hold  at  all  with  frolicking  and 
such  like.  But  you  don't  think  I'm  drunk,  do  you  ? 
(hiccoughing.)  My  father  is  not  a  religious  man,  Mr. 
Holland,  but  he  knows  what's  right,  and  I  should'nt 
like  so  well  for  him  to  hear  that  I  had  been  in  a  frolic." 

"  I  did'nt  come  here  to  find  fault  with  you,  and  I 
scorn  to  be  a  tale-bearer ;  so  come  along  with  me,  and 
we  shall  soon  be  good  friends." 

So  saying,  he  laid  his  hand  gently  upon  the  young 
man,  who  yielded  passively  to  his  fate,  and  was  lead 
away  by  the  venerable  Mr.  Holland. 

The  companions  of  Gideon,  who  had  stood  by  with 
drunken  amazement  during  this  interview,  now  turned 
upon  each  other  looks  of  stupid  wonder  and  disappoint- 
ment, as  the  reader  may  have  seen  a  flock  of  silly  sheep 
when  one  of  their  number  has  been  carried  off  by  the 
shearer. 

The  dwelling  of  Mr.  Holland,  we  have  already  said, 


EONEGUSKI.  195 

was  near  Richland  Creek,  where,  with  the  advantages 
of  experience  and  early  choice,  he  had  selected  one  of  the 
most  productive  among  the  many  tracts  of  fertile  land 
which  border  and  give  name  to  this  stream.  His 
house,  situated  on  the  acclivity  of  a  hill,  overlooked  a 
considerable  extent  of  the  richest  low  grounds,  which, 
with  the  aid  of  a  large  family  of  children,  he  had  brought 
into  a  state  of  cultivation  but  rarely  found  in  that  part 
of  the  country ;  for,  it  may  be  as  well  to  mention,  that  he 
was  from  Pennsylvania,  and  had  brought  with  him 
many  of  the  sound  maxims,  and  much  of  the  agricul- 
tural experience  abounding  in  that  State. 

Mr.  Holland  was  not  ignorant  of  the  wants  of  his 
guest,  and,  upon  their  arrival,  a  bed  was  quickly  pro- 
vided for  him,  in  which  he  was  scarcely  deposited  before 
he  sunk  into  a  profound  slumber. 

"  I  am  afraid  we  shall  have  our  hands  full  of  drunk- 
ards to-night,"  said  Mrs.  Holland  to  her  husband,  after 
his  return  from  the  room  where  he  had  been  disposing 
of  Gideon.  "  I  suppose  Smoothly  and  Rowell  will  both 
come  home  tipsy,  as  usual,  and  old  Johns  will  not  be 
far  behind  them." 

"  I  hope  not,  my  dear,"  replied  Mr.  Holland,  "  but 
the  Lord's  will  be  done.  Happy  should  I  be  if  it  would 
please  him  to  bring  them  to  a  knowledge  of  the  error 
of  their  way.  But  Mary,  my  dear,  we  must  bear  with 
the  frailties  of  our  fellow  creatures,  and  do  the  best  we 
can  to  make  them  comfortable.  We  are  ourselves  but 
unprofitable  servants,  and  have  little  reason  to  com- 
plain of  others.  Edie,"  he  continued,  addressing  his 
eldest  daughter,  "  let  us  have  our  dinner  soon.  The 
best  of  every  thing  must  be  kept  hot  and  nice  for  the 
lawyers  against  they  come  home  hungry  at  night.  I 
reckon  that  poor  young  man  in  the  other  room  will 
hardly  be  wanting  any  thing  either  until  then." 

Edith,  a  sedate,  sweet  tempered  girl,  hastened  to  com- 
ply with  the  wishes  of  her  father,  whose  affectionate 
glance  followed  her  with  complacency,  as  she  moved 
about  from  place  to  place  in  the  fulfilment  of  her  task. 


196  EONEGUSKI. 

We  have  said  that  Mr.  Holland  had  a  large  family 
of  children,  yet  all  but  the  two  younger  were  the  off- 
spring, not  of  the  present  Mrs.  Holland,  but  of  the 
deceased  object  of  their  father's  first  and  early  love, 
whom  death  had  years  ago  snatched  from  his  arms, 
leaving  him  several  pledges  of  their  affection,  of  all 
whom  Edith  most  strongly  resembled  her  deceased 
parent.  It  is  hardly  to  be  wondered  at,  then,  if  some 
chords  of  his  heart  vibrated  when  he  heard  and  saw 
this  daughter  whose  voice,  look,  and  manner  presented 
so  striking  a  copy  of  her  buried  mother,  that  were 
stirred  by  nothing  else. 

When  the  dinner  was  at  length  spread  upon  the  sim- 
ple board,  and  the  family  gathered  around,  it  would  have 
presented  a  most  exquisite  study  for  the  painter.  Sel- 
dom has  the  chisel  perpetuated  a  scene  so  beautifully 
interesting.  With  patriarchal  dignity,  mingled  with  a 
humility  of  manner  which  seemed  to  bow  itself  in  the 
very  dust  before  the  August  Being  he  was  addressing, 
the  venerable  man  closed  his  eyes,  and  elevating  his 
hands,  invoked  a  blessing  upon  their  meal,  while  almost 
every  gradation  of  human  existence,  from  middle  age  to 
extreme  infancy,  hung  attentively  upon  his  looks  and 
words. 


EONEGUSK] 


197 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

I  ne'er  the  paths  of  learning  tried, 
Nor  have  I  roam'd  in  foreign  parts 
To  read  mankind,  their  laws  and  arts. 
The  little  knowledge  I  have  gain'd 
Was  all  from  simple)  nature  drain'd. 

Gay. 

It  was  long  past  the  hour  to  which  the  County  Court 
(or  as  it  is  called  in  the  statutes,  the  Court  of  Pleas  and 
Quarter  Sessions)  for  Haywood  County,  had  adjourned, 
when  the  voice  of  the  Sheriff  was  heard  crying  out 
"Oyes!  oh  yes! — this  Worshipful  Court  has  sot  in 
consequence  of  adjournment.  God  save  the  State  and 
this  Worshipful  Court."  This,  it  is  believed,  is  a  very 
short  and  somewhat  modified  compend  of  the  appointed 
formula,  to  say  nothing  of  the  adoption  in  its  introduc- 
tion of  the  Saxon  adverb  of  affirmation  for  the  French 
verb  signifying  "  Hear."  But  without  at  all  criticising 
the  terms  in  which  the  invitation  was  given,  many  in 
obedience  to  it,  flocked  towards  the  building  where  Jus- 
tice had  erected,  at  Waynesville,  her  temporary  altar 
and  opened  her  temple. 

The  latter  was  a  coarse  building,  consisting  of  un- 
planed  boards  loosely  put  together,  and  scarcely  serving 
to  defend  either  priests  or  worshippers  from  sun,  wind, 
rain,  or  snow.  But  poor  as  were  her  own  accommo- 
dations, Justice  was  obliged  to  share  them  with  Bacchus ; 
and  a  kind  of  shed  attached  to  the  main  body  of  the 
building,  formed  a  bar-room,  to  which  the  thirsty  moun- 
taineers might  repair  for  refreshment.  Nor  was  the  bar- 
room patronized  by  the  lay  gents  only,  for  the  Worship- 
ful Magistracy,  and  even  some  of  the  gentlemen  of  the 
17* 


198  EONEGUSKI. 

long  robe  found  the  business  of  the  court  rather  dry,  and 
frequently  betook  themselves  to  the  oblivious  streams, 
so  much  more  varied,  if  not  so  permanently  efficacious 
in  their  influence  as  the  waters  of  the  fabled  Lethe. 

Of  all  the  political  phenomena  which  the  United 
States  of  America  presents,  there  is  none  more  remark- 
able than  what  is  commonly  known  as  the  county 
court  system.  In  the  first  place,  the  magistrates,  or 
justices  of  the  peace,  as  they  are  indifferently  called, 
are  appointed  from  the  mass  of  the  population  of  their 
respective  counties,  without  any  regard  either  to  cha- 
racter or  intelligence,  and  the  natural  consequence 
is,  that  a  large  proportion  must  (if  nothing  worse 
than  blind  chance  directed  the  choice,)  be  entirely  defi- 
cient in  both.  A  still  further  consequence  is,  that  those 
whose  qualifications  are  the  best  that  the  country  can 
afford — ashamed  of  their  associates,  or  wearied  with  a 
burthen  which  brings  with  it  neither  honor  nor  profit — 
first  grossly  neglect  the  duties  of  their  station,  and, 
finally,  resign  it.  This  leaves  the  office  almost  exclu- 
sively in  the  hands  of  the  worst  qualified  of  those  who 
may  aspire  to  it,  namely,  the  whole  white  population 
of  the  county  who  may  have  witnessed  the  transit  of 
twenty-one  years.  Three,  at  least,  of  this  body — and 
in  practice  generally,  more  than  ten  times  that  number, 
assemble  once  in  three  months  at  the  court-house  of 
their  county,  to  hold  the  county  court.  To  this  tribu- 
nal, extensive  powers,  in  their  nature  legislative,  so  far 
as  the  police  of  the  county  is  concerned,  are  committed. 
But,  besides  this,  they  have  a  jurisdiction  in  contests  be- 
tween citizens  respecting  property,  entirely  unlimited  in 
amount;  and  a  criminal  jurisdiction  extending  far  enough 
to  allow  them  to  sentence  the  most  respectable  citizen  in 
the  community,  to  the  public  whipping-post;  and,  al- 
though the  right  of  appeal  is  secured  by  law,  yet  so 
radically  whimsical  must  be  the  doings  of  a  tribunal 
thus  constituted,  that  instances  are  not  wanting,  where 
the  sheriff  under  the  side-bar  sentence  of  the  court,  has 


EONEGUSKI.  199 

been  applying  the  lash,  while  the  subject's  counsel  was 
engaged  in  moving  a  new  trial,  an  arrest  of  judgment, 
or  demanding  an  appeal.  It  is  true,  that  facts  in  their 
proceedings  are  committed  to  the  investigation  of  a  jury  ; 
but  it  is  a  jury  generally  taken  with  as  little  regard  to 
qualification,  from  the  same  mass  with  the  magistracy. 
But  the  most  intricate  questions  of  law — the  most  ab- 
struse points  of  evidence,  are  to  be  decided  by  this  tribu- 
nal, by  mere  intuition ;  for  it  is  not  even  supposed  that 
they  have  ever  looked  into  any  other  law  book  than 
Haywood's  Manual,  Potter's  Justice,  or  the  pamphlet 
Acts  of  Assembly. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  they  usually  have  the  matter 
discussed  before  them  by  an  intelligent  bar,  but  the  man- 
ner of  the  discussion  is  more  after  the  furious  mode  of 
the  prize-fighters  at  a  fair  for  victory, — not  truth,  in 
which  violent  gesticulation  and  round  and  reckless  as- 
sertion are  alone  to  be  found,  than  the  calm,  dispassionate 
ratiocinatory  process  of  one  who  seeks,  by  fair  argument 
and  clear  illustration  to  enlighten  the  minds  of  the  mot-  . 
ley  court  upon  a  subject  lying  before  it,  shrouded  in  the 
gloom  of  the  profoundest  ignorance.  The  result  is,  that 
some  individual  member  of  the  profession  acquires,  by 
an  extraordinary  boldness  of  manner,  or  some  other  for- 
tuitous circumstance,  an  absolute  control  over  the  deci- 
sions of  the  court,  leading  the  minds  of  its  members 
captive  at  his  will,  as  Satan  is  said  to  do  those  of  the 
wicked.  All  hope  of  justice  is  thus  cut  off  from  those 
to  whom  this  fortunate  advocate  may  happen  to  be  op- 
posed, save  now  and  then,  when  some  other  bias,  even 
more  powerful  than  his  influence,  may  chance  to  operate. 
Such  was  the  nature  of  the  tribunal  through  whose  lips, 
under  the  etherial  inspiration  of  rye  whiskey,  or  apple 
jack,  the  perfection  of  reason  was  to  be  uttered  at 
Waynesville. 

But  the  pen  of  the  British  Spy  is  wanting  to  de- 
scribe the  bar  by  whose  breath  these  instruments  of 
justice  were  stirred  into  sound.  The  North  Caroli- 
na bar,   and  it  is   probable  the  same  remarks  apply 


200  EONEGUSKI. 

substantially  to  the  bar  of  every  other  State  in  our 
broad  Union,  is  another  phenomenon ;  or  at  least  must 
appear  so  to  the  eye  of  any  observing  European. 
Every  American,  particularly  in  the  South,  who  can 
afford  him  an  education,  destines  at  least  one  of  his 
sons  for  the  bar,  the  pulpit,  or  the  band  of  Escula- 
pius,  and  much  the  greater  number  for  the  former  of 
these  professions.  Whether  it.  is  the  effect  of  climate 
we  will  not  undertake  to  pronounce ;  but  certain  it  is, 
in  the  South,  at  least,  a  long  preparation  for  any  thing 
is  utterly  abhorrent  to  an  American :  so  that  after  the 
shortest  possible  cut  to  a  diploma  in  one  of  our  colleges, 
and  sometimes  without  ever  having  seen  a  college,  the 
embryo  jurist  applies  to  some  judge,  or  lawyer,  for 
whose  character  he  entertains  a  respect,  to  furnish  him 
with  a  receipt  for  the  shortest  method  of  obtaining  a 
license  to  practise  law — with  a  loan,  either  gratis  or  for 
compensation,  of  the  book  or  books  which  may  be  in- 
cluded in  the  prescribed  course.  Perhaps,  in  a  majority 
of  cases,  Blackstone  is  relied  upon,  as  he  is  certainly 
competent  to  qualify  him  for  the  examination,  so  called, 
upon  which  his  license  is  to  depend.  When  his  chosen 
Mentor,  who  is  wont  to  be  very  pliant  to  the  wishes  of 
the  student,  pronounces  his  vessel  sufficiently  freighted, 
the  young  adventurer  applies,  with  but  little  danger  of 
denial,  to  the  proper  authority  for  a  license,  to  put  forth 
upon  the  sea  of  forensic  fortune.  But  in  most  instan- 
ces there  is  a  weary  interval  between  his  making  ap- 
pearance at  the  bar  and  his  appearance  as  an  advo- 
cate ;  or,  to  use  the  professional  phrase,  between  getting 
his  license  and  getting  business. 

In  this  interval  the  work  of  preparation  is  pressed 
with  indefatigable  zeal,  and  his  intercourse  with  the 
seniors  of  the  bar  proves  no  less  instructive  to  him, 
professionally,  than  his  books.  We  say  professionally, 
and  might  add,  generally,  as  a  man  of  the  world. 
Whatever  may  be  said  of  the  profession  elsewhere, 
here,  at  least,  experience  has  so  well  established  with  it 
the  truth  of  the  maxim,  that  "  Honesty  is  the  best  po- 


EONEGUSKI.  201 

licy,"  that  an  aberration  of  one  of  its  members  from  the 
path  of  the  strictest  integrity  is  more  rare  than  among 
any  other  class  of  people.  With  them  the  spirit  of 
chivalry  is  no  antiquated  dream  of  romance,  and  a  cow- 
ard or  poltron  would  be  tolerated  amongst  them  no 
longer  than  until  the  fact  was  discovered.  There  is,  in 
their  intercourse,  a  cordiality  of  manner  and  frank  con- 
fidence truly  delightful,  together  with  a  generous  inte- 
rest in  each  other's  welfare,  the  offspring  of  a  fraternity 
more  heartfelt,  if  possible,  than  that  of  blood. 

These  are  some  of  the  intellectual  and  moral  influences 
which  the  young  member  of  the  profession  is  brought 
under  as  soon  as  he  begins  to  associate  with  his  seniors. 
But  there  is  another  influence  which  he  finds  stealing, 
almost  imperceptibly,  over  him,  equally  conducive,  per- 
haps, to  his  present  enjoyment,  but  greatly  to  be  deplor- 
ed by  those  who  contemplate  him  as  an  immortal  being, 
upon  whom  rests  a  dread  moral  accountability.  As  a 
body,  the  members  of  the  bar  are  perfect  utilitarians, 
who  have  culled  all  those  qualities  of  the  human  cha- 
racter calculated  to  render  them  respectable,  useful,  and 
happy,  in  this  life,  and  wiser  in  their  generation  than 
the  children  of  light — they  pursue  their  worldly  objects 
with  no  divided  aim.  The  thoughts  of  futurity  are  not 
allowed  to  disturb  their  quiet,  and,  as  the  only  security 
against  their  inconvenient  intrusions,  they  generally 
become  free-thinkers.  Intolerant  of  the  slightest  breach 
of  the  code  of  honor  or  honesty,  that  portion  of  the 
moral  law  which  is  not  found  written  in  either  of  these 
codes,  is  overlooked  as  immaterial.  All  this,  it  is  to 
be  hoped,  nay,  is  believed,  to  be  what  the  profession 
once  was,  rather  than  what  it  now  is,  for  we  have 
reason  to  think  that,  while  it  has  lost  nothing  in  these 
latter  days  of  its  pristine  virtues,  many  of  its  more  ob- 
jectionable traits  have  been  altogether  discarded. 

Thus  fitted  out  with  a  large  stock  of  knowledge,  ac- 
quired in  that  study  which  high  authority  has  pro- 
nounced to  be  the  proper  one  for  all   mankind,   tke 


202  EONEGtISKI. 

North  Carolina  lawyer  will  appear  before  the  higher 
or  lower  tribunals  of  his  country  with  an  effect  which 
would  astonish  one  of  the  learned  sergeants  of  West- 
minster Hall.  When  he  listened  to  the  power  of  argu- 
ment with  which  he  managed  the  facts — when  he  per- 
ceived that,  in  the  absence  of  nearly  every  visible  form, 
he  spoke  of  the  principles  laid  down  in  Chitty  and  Tidd 
with  the  most  perfect  familiarity,  and  applied  them  to 
his  case,  he  would  be  greatly  amazed — he  could  not 
believe  that  a  training  so  totally  different  from  that  be- 
stowed upon  the  English  barrister  had  produced  such 
results.  But  could  he  enter  the  arena  with  the  rustic 
looking  advocate  he  would  find  himself  unable,  with 
all  his  professional  tactics  and  experience,  to  withstand 
the  force  and  fury  of  his  encounter.  Far  be  it  from 
us  to  detract  from  the  highly  polished  and  able  advo- 
cates of  Great  Britain.  All  that  we  desire,  in  our 
bold  comparison,  is  to  show,  in  full  relief,  the  truth, 
that  each  is  best  qualified  for  the  station  he  fills,  and 
that  different  trainings  are  necessary  for  different  fields 
of  action. 

The  sketch  above  made  of  a  North  Carolina  law- 
yer shows  the  usual  result  upon  a  mind  of  an  order 
naturally  high,  and  under  ordinary  circumstances ;  but 
the  same  is,  in  various  degrees,  produced  upon  other 
orders,  and  the  picture  would  be  differently  shaded, 
according  to  the  circumstances  under  which  it  is  drawn. 
For  instance,  in  the  older  parts  of  the  State  you  see  the 
lawyer  dressed  in  finer  clothes,  of  a  more  fashionable 
cut,  and  with  something  more  of  the  cit  in  his  manners 
than  his  brother  of  the  new  settlements.  The  one  glides 
in  his  sulky  over  the  level  plains,  with  perhaps  a  servant 
at  his  back  ;  the  other  jogs  along,  over  hill  and  valley, 
and  sometimes  scaling  the  side  of  a  precipice,  with  his 
time-worn  and  well-filled  saddlebags  flapping  against 
the  sides  of  his  horse. 

Of  this  latter  class,  six  had  found  their  way  to 
Waynesville,  and  were  maintaining  a  friendly  strife, 


EONEGUSKI.  203 

first  for  fees  from  those  gulls  of  the  law  who  hovered 
about  the  court-house,  and  next  for  the  successful  issue 
of  the  causes  committed  to  their  charge. 

Mr.  Johns  is,  by  right  of  seniority,  first  entitled  to 
consideration  amongst  them.  He  was  a  tall  lank  man, 
about  fifty  years  of  age,  with  locks  originally  black, 
thickly  sprinkled  with  gray.  In  his  countenance  there 
was  a  sneaking  craven  expression,  better  becoming 
a  criminal  than  an  advocate,  and  yet  it  was  in  the 
defence  of  criminals,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  he  had  at- 
tained a  proud  pre-eminence  in  all  the  courts  he  attend- 
ed. A  stranger  would  have  taken  him  for  the  hum- 
blest of  the  bumpkins  who  hovered  about  the  bar ;  and 
when  he  opened  his  mouth,  its  harsh  and  unmusical 
tones  would  never  have  suggested,  that  in  them  dwelt 
the  notes  of  soft  persuasion.  But  when  he  witnessed 
the  sad  sufferings  of  the  English  language  in  the  throat, 
palate,  tongue,  and  beautiful  teeth  of  Mr.  Johns,  as  it 
was  slowly  and  stammeringly  uttered,  he  would  won- 
der still  more  wherein  lay  his  resemblance  to  the  fa- 
cund  Mercury.  And  a  yet  higher  flight  would  await 
his  astonishment  when  he  looked  upon  his  mean  coun- 
tenance— his  bleared  lack-lustre  eyes — the  graceless 
stoop  of  his  shoulders — his  open  collar,  exposing  a 
scraggy  neck,  from  which  the  pomum  adami  protruded 
like  a  large  wen — his  slovenly  ill-arranged  clothing — 
and  his  spindle  shanks  appearing  beneath  his  panta- 
loons, a  world  too  short  as  well  as  too  wide,  and  expo- 
sing their  nakedness,  (for  they  always  disdained,  except 
in  the  severest  weather,  the  comfort  of  a  stocking.)  And 
yet  this  man,  having  neither  the  gait,  air,  action,  nor 
utterance  of  a  Christian,  was  certainly  a  successful 
criminal  advocate,  nay,  even  bore  away  the  palm  from 
all  competition — but 

"  What  charms, 
What  conjuration,  or  what  magic," 

he  won  his  causes,  withal,  is,  perhaps,  a  professional 
secret.  He  usually  occupied  no  place  within  the  bar, 
and  save  when  actually  engaged  in  the  management  of 


204  EONEGUSKI. 

a  cause,  might  be  seen  mingling-  with  the  people  of  the 
court-yard,  until  his  social  habits  had  stretched  him 
(which  was  frequently  the  case)  upon  the  bed  of  peni- 
tence. 

Next  in  age  stood  Mr.  Rowell,  as  brave  a  man,  and 
as  generous  a  spirit,  as  ever  lived.  He  had  been  almost 
cradled  upon  the  wave,  and  had  often  "  felt  it  bounding 
beneath  him  like  a  steed  who  knows  its  rider."  He 
had  heard  the  thunder  of  his  country's  cannon  mingled 
with  that  of  her  enemy's — had  witnessed  the  soul-stir- 
ring scenes  of  a  naval  conflict,  and  could  say  with 
JEneas,  "all  which  I  saw  and  part  of  which  I  was" — 
had  seen  the  flag  of  his  country  flying  at  a  mast-head, 
where  that  of  an  enemy  had  recently  waved  in  proud 
defiance — had  heard  the  groans  of  the  wounded  and 
dying — had  mingled  his  voice  in  the  shouts  of  victory — 
in  short,  had  been  an  officer  in  the  United  States  Navy. 
But  the  voice  of  love  will  be  heard  even  amid  the  howl- 
ings  of  a  storm,  and  his  shaft  will  sometimes  wound  a 
heart  which  has  passed  scatheless  through  the  thick  fly- 
ing dangers  of  a  battle.  But  we  have  not  time  to  tell 
the  tale^  suffice  it,  that  Mars  could  not  refuse  the  sur- 
render of  a  subject  whom  Venus  claimed,  and  Mr. 
Rowell  left  the  navy  of  his  country  for  an  employment 
more  auspicious  to  connubial  bliss.  He  married,  stu- 
died, and  became  a  lawyer.  The  western  part  of  his 
native  State  presented  to  him  the  most  inviting  theatre, 
and  thither  he  repaired.  His  stock,  both  of  law  and 
literature,  was  limited,  but  a  fine  fund  of  natural  good 
sense,  united  with  his  high  spirit,  commanded  the  re- 
spect of  the  people,  and  he  succeeded  beyond  his  most 
sanguine  hopes.  But  he,  too,  was  the  occasional  slave 
of  intemperance,  and  his  person,  originally  no  way  re- 
markable, was  now  beginning  to  exhibit  those  melan- 
choly signs,  by  which  the  tyrant  marks  those  whom  he 
destines  ultimately  for  his  victims.  But  his  mind  rose 
strangely  above  the  wreck  of  his  body,  and  6eemed,  if 
not  to  gather  more,  at  least  to  lose  nothing,  of  its  pris- 
tine strength.      Like  a  giant,  whose  natural  vigor  re- 


EONEGUSKI.  205 

mains  unimpaired,  while  his  castle  is  tumbling  into 
ruins  about  him.  At  the  time  we  speak  of,  Mr.  Row- 
ell  had  seated  himself  in  a  ricketty  chair,  behind  an  old 
barrel  with  the  head  upwards,  which  served  him  both 
as  table  and  writing-desk. 

Next  to  him  sat  Mr.  Smoothly,  a  gentleman  of  fine 
education  and  natural  genius.  Language  flowed  from 
his  lips  with  ease  and  smoothness — like  a  stream  of  oil, 
it  poured  along  without  interruption,  and  apparently 
without  effort.  But  the  happiness  of  selection  which 
marked  every  word,  indicated  that  it  was  quickness  and 
not  languor  of  mind  which  caused  the  absence  of  appa- 
rent exertion.  The  ear  that  heard  was  charmed  with 
the  music  of  his  voice,  and  the  fancy  was  delighted 
with  the  richness  and  beauty  of  his  figures.  The  muses 
did  not  disdain  his  advances,  but  condescended  to  breathe 
upon  him  the  inspiration  which  prompts  to  the  produc- 
tion of  "immortal  verse."  He  was  a  cunning  master 
of  melody,  and  could  set  the  table  in  a  roar,  by  night 
or  by  day,  with  the  felicitous  flashes  of  his  wit.  And 
yet  Smoothly  was  not  a  successful  advocate;  and  it  is 
not  improbable  that,  as  others  have  done,  he  found  the 
practise  of  the  law  rather  an  expensive  business.  He, 
too,  was  intemperate,  and  had  probably  been  driven  by 
that  pernicious  habit  to  the  present  rude  scene,  from  one 
much  better  suited  for  the  exhibition  of  his  genius  and 
accomplishments.  This  day  he  had  come  into  court  in 
the  stupor  of  intoxication,  and  throwing  himself  into 
his  accustomed  seat,  had  cocked  up  his  heels  upon  a 
crazy  table,  and  fallen  back  in  his  chair  into  a  deep 
sleep,  and  was  sending  forth  the  sluggard's  serenade  in 
strains  deep  and  sonorous. 

The  remaining  members  of  the  bar  were  sober  order- 
ly gentlemen,  who  attended  to  their  business  with  com- 
mendable industry,  and  were  no  way  distinguished  by 
any  characteristic  marks. 

Such  were  the  juris-consults  who  were  congregated 
on  this  occasion  to  supply  the  good  people  of  Haywood 

VOL.  I. — 18. 


206  EONEGUSKI. 

with  the  needful  modicum  from  the  treasures  of  their 
legal  learning. 

Eoneguski  having  made  his  way  into  the  court- 
house, was  observing  with  the  curiosity  of  an  inquisi- 
tive but  uninformed  mind,  every  thing  that  was  going 
on,  and,  probably,  in  his  simple  process  of  reasoning, 
forming  not  the  most  elevated  opinion  of  the  whites 
from  the  scene  before  him.  But  his  thoughts,  such  as 
they  were,  he  confined  to  his  own  bosom. 

After  several  weighty  matters  had  been  discussed, 
a  most  unlucky  specimen  of  female  elegance  was  cal- 
led up  to  the  bar,  bearing  in  her  arms  an  infant,  whose 
beauty,  contrasted  with  his  homely  mother,  said  much 
in  favor  of  his  father's  personal  advantages.  The  sub- 
sequent proceedings  disclosed  that  Mr.  Rowell  was  en- 
gaged in  the  very  charitable  work,  as  ~  county  solicitor, 
of  assisting  the  infant  in  a  search  such  as  that  which  so 
much  troubled  Captain  Marryatt's  hero,  Japhet.  Amid 
a  perfect  Babel  of  sounds,  the  jury  was  impannelled, 
and  the  examination  of  the  mother  read,  charging  a 
gentleman  present  with  a  paternity  which  he,  by  his 
plea,  had  denied.  •  Witness  after  witness  was  examined 
on  each  side,  contradicting  and  supporting  the  charge, 
until  the  day  was  nearly  consumed,  when  the  testimony 
of  the  witnesses  was  succeeded  by  the  arguments  of 
counsel — Mr.  Rowell  opening,  old  Johns  replying,  and 
Mr.  Rowell  again  concluding.  Zealous  and  warm 
were  they  both,  and  the  bystanders,  who  had  been 
before  restless  and  noisy,  now  listened  with  the  most 
breathless  attention,  eager  to  catch  every  word  Even 
a  discordant  violin,  which,  regardless  of  its  proximity 
to  the  scene  of  grave  judicial  proceeding,  had  been 
sending  forth,  unceasingly,  its  screams  and  groans,  was 
suddenly  hushed  into  silence,  as  the  accomplished  per- 
former rose  to  have  his  own  ears  tickled  in  turn,  for 
the  delightful  irritation  with  which  he  had  gratified 
those  of  others. 

An  aged  man,  whose  head  was  as  bald  as  that  of  the 
eagle  whose  effigy  graces  the  flag  of  his  country,  and 


EONEGTJSKI.  207 

glistened  like  an  onion  newly  stripped  of  its  covering, 
was  the  clerk  of  the  court,  who  availed  himself  of  this 
season  of  general  quiet  to  indulge  in  a  comfortable  nap. 
Being  seated  immediately  under  the  chairman  of  the 
court,  (an  inveterate  chewer  of  tobacco,)  the  defenceless 
cranium  of  the  clerk  received  the  greater  portion  of 
saliva  which  his  worship,  from  time  to  time,  spurted 
forth.  The  accumulated  fluid  ran  in  brown  streams 
over  the  face  of  the  deep  sleeper,  and  finally  trickled 
down  from  his  chin.  Still  he  slept  on  as  if  in  rivalry  of 
Mr.  Smoothly,  who  sat  just  opposite  him.  At  length 
the  justice  wished  to  change  his  quid,  and  carelessly 
throwing  the  old  one  from  him,  it  chanced  to  fall  into 
the  open  mouth  of  the  sleeping  lawyer,  who  had  an  ut- 
ter abhorrence  of  the  weed,  and  yet  it  did  not  wake 
him. 

Mr.  Johns  had  finished  his  defence,  and  Rowell  was 
proceeding,  with  great  success,  to  fix  the  charge  upon 
the  client  of  Johns,  whose  innocence  the  latter  suppo- 
sed he  had  most  triumphantly  established.  Rowell  had 
become  warmed,  and  every  one  was  borne  away  upon 
the  fervid  stream  of  his  eloquence,  except  the  little  che- 
rub, on  whose  account  was  all  this  stir  and  excitement. 
This  interesting  creature,  in  the  artless  joy  of  his  heart, 
was  playing  with  the  ribbon  of  his  mother's  bonnet,  and 
crowed  and  laughed,  perfectly  unconscious  that  he  was 
born  to  a  life  of  shame,  or  that  the  seal  of  infamy  was 
stamped  upon  his  beautiful  brow.  All  else,  we  have 
said,  were  riveted  in  mute  attention  on  the  lips  of  Row- 
ell, and  even  the  crier  of  the  court,  to  whose  eyes  nature 
had  denied  the  blessed  light  of  Heaven,  bent  his  sight- 
less orbs  upon  the  speaker,  and  seemed  perfectly  enrap- 
tured. As  Rowell  was  rushing  on,  trampling,  as  it 
were,  his  adversary  beneath  his  feet,  the  infant,  whose 
eyes  had  been  wandering  from  face  to  face  with  the 
most  joyous  expression,  suddenly  turned  them  upon  the 
traverser,  and  cried  out  in  the  first  accents  of  childhood, 
"  Papa  !"  Rowell,  with  great  presence  of  mind,  seized 
upon  the  incident.    "  Yes,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  "nature 


208  EONEGUSKI. 

now  speaks  through  the  lips  of  infancy,  and  asserts  her 
claim ;  and  the  same  Almighty  Being  who  opened  the 
mouth  of  the  dumb  ass,  and  caused  her  to  utter  the  voice 
of  rebuke  to  his  prophet,  hath  also,  on  this  occasion, 
taught  language  to  the  unpractised  tongue,  and,  through 
the  mouth  of  a  babe,  hath  uttered  the  voice  of  irresisti- 
ble truth." 

A  half  drunken  creature,  who  had  long  stood,  with 
open  mouth,  just  at  the  back  of  the  speaker,  trans- 
ported by  this  last  happy  flight,  clapped  his  hands 
together,  and  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  "  By 
G — d,  if  old  gimlet  would  only  keep  sober,  I  would 
rather  have  him  than  any  of  them." 

Rovvell  was  overwhelmed;  the  stream  of  water  which 
sets  in  motion  the  complicated  machinery  of  a  mill, 
stops  not  more  suddenly,  when  the  gate  is  lowered, 
than  did  his  voice  upon  the  present  occasion — 

"  Surprise  in  secret  chains  his  words  suspends." 

Every  eye  was  fixed  upon  him,  and  a  grotesque  re- 
semblance to  that  contemptible  tool  mentioned  by  the 
clown,  which  had  never  before  been  noticed,  now  for- 
cibly struck  all  present,  and  the  effect  was  irresisti- 
ble. A  shout  of  laughter  rang  through  the  hall  of 
justice,  and  startled  the  sleepers  from  their  leaden  slum- 
bers ;  and  while  the  one  gagged  and  sputtered  to  eject 
the  discarded  quid  of  the  justice,  which  had  been  soak- 
ing in  his  throat  for  the  last  half  hour,  the  other,  feeling 
the  moisture  upon  his  head  and  face,  inquisitively  put 
up  his  hand  to  ascertain  what  it  was.  This  attempt  to 
explore  the  matter  but  served  the  more  to  confound  him, 
while  it  gave  a  wider  spread  to  his  loathsome  mask. — ■ 
At  length  the  truth  flashed  upon  his  mind,  and  he  vent- 
ed his  vexation  in  the  most  bitter  curses  upon  the  ma- 
gistrate, who,  in  turn,  swore  roundly  that  the  thing  was 
entirely  accidental.  None  but  the  oaths  of  the  magis- 
trate reached  the  ears  of  the  blind  crier,  who,  as  soon 
as  he  heard  them,  and  not  imagining  from  whence  they 
came,  called  out,  in  all  the  formality  of  official  conse- 


EONEOUSKI.  209 

quence,    "What  profane  wretch  is  that   swearing   in 
court;  I'll  soon  have  him  before  their  worships." 

A  confusion  and  uproar,  now  too  wild  to  admit  of 
suppression  or  control,  dissolved  the  court  for  the  day, 
and  it  is  doubtful  whether  the  paternity  of  the  poor 
little  babe  has  been  settled,  even  up  to  this  period.  The 
balance  of  the  day  was  spent  in  horse  racing,  fighting, 
and  other  kindred  amusements,  with  which  most  of  the 
inhabitants  of  Waynesville  and  its  vicinity  were  wont 
to  beguile  their  idle  hours. 


18* 


210  EONEGUSKI. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

For  Albert's  home  they  sought. 


Campbell. 


In  the  ruder  stages  of  society  the  quantity  of  food  is 
a  matter  of  much  more  importance  than  its  quality ;  and 
in  the  more  early  periods  of  civilization  food  can  be 
dispensed  with  altogether,  for  a  season,  if  an  abundant 
supply  of  intoxicating  liquors  be  only  substituted.  Thus 
it  is  the  practice  to  provide  at  places  where  men  are 
wont  to  assemble,  rather  against  the  demands  of  arti- 
ficial thirst,  than  hunger  or  the  necessity  for  sleep. 

The  tavern  which  had  contributed  to  give  Waynes- 
ville  the  rank  of  a  town,  wanted  all  the  substantial 
utility  of  such  an  institution.  Drink,  truly,  such  as 
it  was,  could  be  obtained  there  in  great  abundance  ;  but 
eating  and  sleeping  were  matters  altogether  of  too  trivial 
concern  to  merit  the  provident  attention  of  the  landlord. 
From  pure  kindness  of  heart,  therefore,  and  not  in 
compliance  with  any  avaricious  yearnings  for  gain,  did 
Mr.  Holland,  to  supply  the  defect  of  accommodation  at 
Waynesville,  open  his  hospitable  doors.  Thither, 
amongst  others,  the  gentlemen  of  the  bar  resorted  for 
that  comfort  for  which  they  would  have  sought  in  vain 
any  where  else  in  the  vicinity  of  Waynesville.  It  was, 
in  fact,  a  great  inconvenience,  both  to  him  and  his 
worthy  spouse,  but  from  the  motives  before  mentioned 
they  submitted  to  it,  and  although  he  could  not  afford 
the  finding  both  his  guests  and  their  horses  altogether 
gratis,  yet  the  old  gentleman  took  from  them  barely 
enough  to  defray  his  actual  expense,  without  accepting 
any  thing  for  trouble.  Yet  of  this  he  had  a  large 
share,  and  it  is  to  be   feared   that   his  courtesy  was 


EONEGUSKI.  211 

not  very  gratefully  repaid  by  those  who  were  its  re- 
cipients. His  piety  was  notorious,  and  although  he 
did  prevent,  by  the  most  positive  prohibition,  the  dese- 
cration of  his  mansion  by  card  playing,  yet  in  that  day, 
when  there  were  no  temperance  societies  to  back  him 
in  what  would  have  been  considered  a  manifest  breach 
of  common  civility,  as  well  as  a  gross  encroachment 
upon  personal  freedom,  he  could  not  withhold  from 
his  guests  intoxicating  drinks  of  the  best  quality  within 
his  reach,  and  had  thus  frequently  the  mortification, 
from  the  abuse  of  his  favors,  to  perceive  himself  instru- 
mental in  the  production  of  consequences  disgraceful  to 
them,  distressing  to  his  family,  and  painfully  offensive 
to  his  own  moral  sense.  To  most  outbreaking  pro- 
fanity he  was  compelled  often  to  submit,  though  not 
without  some  word  or  look  expressive  of  his  disappro- 
bation ;  and  his  ears  were  not  spared  occasional  disdain- 
ful hints  relative  to  the  graces  by  which,  in  spite  of 
them,  he  scrupulously  accompanied  every  meal. 

To  Mr.  Holland's  the  gentlemen  of  the  long  robe  re- 
paired, after  the  very  sudden  dissolution  of  the  court,  as 
described  in  the  last  chapter,  amusing  themselves  as  they 
went,  and  even  after  their  arrival,  with  good  humored 
raillery  upon  Johns,  Roweil,  and  Smoothly,  relative  to 
their  respective  parts  in  the  closing  scene.  These  gen- 
tlemen, like  those  of  the  profession  in  other  parts  of 
the  State,  were  exceedingly  free  and  easy  in  their  in- 
tercourse with  each  other  out  of  court,  and  it  would 
have  argued  great  want  of  tact  in  any  one  seriously  to 
have  resented  a  sally  of  pleasantry  of  which  he  might 
be  the  subject.  Mr.  Holland,  although  a  pious  man, 
was  not  one  of  those  who  imagined  religion  to  consist 
in  a  vinegar  countenance  or  starched  formality  of  man- 
ner, and  enjoyed  as  much  as  any  of  them  the  humor  of 
the  scene,  which  he  succeeded  at  length  in  gathering 
almost  entire  by  putting  together  the  several  parts  fur- 
nished by  each  contributor.  "  Why,  Smoothly,"  he 
said,  after  laughing  until  his  very  sides  were  sore, 
"  you  must  have  enjoyed  the  squire's  quid,  you  held  on 


212  EONEGUSKI. 

to  it  so  long.  I  think  a'ter  awhile  you'll  make  a  tole- 
rable tobacco  chewer." 

"  Well,  father  Holland,"  said  Smoothly,  "  don't  you 
think  a  gentleman  might  be  excused  for  washing  down 
such  a  joke  as  that  with  a  good  drink  ?" 

"  Ah,  Smoothly,"  said  Rowell,  who  was  constantly 
vacillating  between  good  purposes -and  evil  practice, 
"any  thing  for  an  excuse." 

"  Well  boys,"  said  old  Johns,  "  I  am  like  the  feller 
who,  hearing  one  cry  out  for  licker  bekase  he  was 
cold,  and  another  bekase  he  was  warm,  called  to  the 
waiter,  '  Bring  me  a  glass  of  brandy  and  water,  bekase 
I  likes  it.'  So  Holland  do  let  me  have  something  to 
drink,  bekase  I  likes  it.     I  second  Smoothly' s  motion." 

Gideon,  who  had  by  this  time  come  to  himself,  en- 
joyed very  much  this  new  society  into  which  he  was 
thrown,  and  it  was  quite  a  treat  to  him  to  listen  to  the 
stale  professional  jokes  and  tales  with  which,  after  sup- 
per, Johns,  Rowell,  and  Smoothly  amused  themselves 
until  late  bed-time;  while  in  an  adjoining  apartment, 
the  three  other  members  of  the  bar,  regardless  of  the 
mirthful  cachinnations  which  frequently  assailed  them, 
were  arranging  the  facts  and  law  of  the  trials  for  the 
succeeding  day. 

Mr.  Holland  and  Johns  had  sunk  into  that  quiet, 
contemplative  state,  that  the  pipe,  to  which  they  were 
both  considerably  enslaved,  is  so  apt  to  induce ;  and  the 
conversation  had  begun  somewhat  to  flag  between 
Smoothly  and  Rowell,  (a  thing  altogether  insufferable 
in  a  professional  circle,)  while  Gideon,  with  all  the  in- 
terest of  a  novice,  was  impatiently  listening  for  some 
new  sally  from  the  lawyers,  entitled,  by  the  mint  from 
whence  it  proceeded,  to  pass  as  genuine  wit. 

"  Come,  Smoothly,"  at  length  said  Rowell,  "  the 
squire's  quid  seems  not  only  to  have  taken  away  your 
appetite,  but  destroyed  your  spirits." 

"  Not  so  fast,"  replied  Smoothly,  "  I  don't  think  you 
have  much  to  brag    upon ;  in  the  first   place,  I  was 


EONEGUSKI.  213 

not  so  sorely  watered  as  yourself,  and  am  now  at  least 
as  cheerful,  if  not  quite  so  witty." 

"  Why,  you  are  disposed  to  be  severe,"  answered 
Rowell,  a  little  ruffled.  "  You  know  very  well  that 
no  one  pretends  to  vie  with  you  in  wit,  writing  verses, 
or  pretty  speaking." 

"  And  you  know  Rowell,"  said  Smoothly  tauntingly, 
"  that  you  consider  yourself  a  perfect  Isocrates  in  com- 
posing speeches,  but  not  being  so  deficient  in  brass  as 
poor  Isocrates,  you  are  not  far  behind  Demosthenes  in 
delivery." 

"  If  I  were  disposed  to  be  as  severe  as  you,  Smooth- 
ly," said  Rowell,  "  I  might  retort  on  you,  and  say,  what 
I  do  not  allege  as  the  fact,  that  you  resemble  much 
more  Theodorus,  the  father  of  Isocrates,  than  that  cele- 
brated orator  himself.;  for  the  former  had  no  higher 
reputation  than  that  of  being  a  good  maker  of  music." 

"  And  if  you  were  to  say  it,"  replied  Smoothly,  "  I 
should  hold  it  as  no  reproach,  for  I  believe  with  Shaks- 
peare,  that  '  he  who  has  no  music  in  his  soul  is  fit  for 
treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils.'  " 

This  observation  was  accompanied  with  a  look  of 
provoking  significance  at  Rowell,  who  was  notoriously 
deficient  both  in  fondness  for  music,  and  the  power  of 
making  it. 

"  Do  you  mean  any  serious  personal  application  of 
your  remark?"  inquired  Rowell,  with  stern  composure. 

"  Qui  capit,  ille  facit,  you  understand  some  Latin, 
sir,  I  suppose,"  replied  Smoothly,  with  cool  indifference. 

"  Better,  sir,  than  you  do  the  conduct  becoming  a  gen- 
tleman," said  Rowell,  tartly. 

"  I  suppose  you  would  have  a  man  to  learn  his  man- 
ners before  the  mast  of  a  vessel,  or  in  the  accomplished 
society  of  some  modern  Palinurus,"  replied  Smoothly, 
with  most  provoking  coolness. 

"  No,  sir,  such  society  would  be  altogether  too  good 
for  you,  and  as  you  are  fond  of  classical  names,  I  know 
none  which  you  may  more  justly  appropriate  to  your- 
self than  that  of  Thersites" 


214  EONEGUSKI. 

11 1  am  fearful,"  replied  Smoothly,  "  that  a  fate  simi- 
lar to  his  awaits  me,  for  I  see  that  Achilles  already  has 
his  fist  doubled,"  looking  at  the  right  hand  of  Rowell, 
which  he  had  in  his  excitement  closed  after  the  manner 
of  one  about  to  strike. 

"  D— n  it,  Smoothly,"  said  Rowell,  recovering  his 
good  humor,  "  you  are  too  hard  for  me." 

"  If  you  would  only  read  more,  Rowell,  I  should  be 
no  match  for  you,"  replied  Smoothly.  "  Now  you  did 
not  know  that  it  was  for  laughing  at  him  for  appearing 
as  a  mourner  at  the  death  of  Penthesilea,  that  Achilles, 
with  a  blow  of  his  fist,  slew  Thersites;  (a  very  small 
matter,  surely,  for  which  to  take  a  man's  life;)  or  you 
might  have  kept  up  the  ball  on  your  side  by  saying 
something  like  this — I  will  not  follow. the  example  of 
Achilles,  and  slay  even  such  a  wretch  for  such  a 
trifle. — Drink  less  Rowell,  and  read  more." 

"  Well,"  said  old  Johns,  "  happy  to  find  the  conversa- 
tion once  more  coming  back  to  plain  every  day  English; 
what  Smoothly  says  puts  me  in  mind  of  the  old  story 
of  the  kittle  calling  the  pot  black;  come,  both  of  you 
drap  it  like  a  hot  potato,  and  let  Smoothly  give  us  a 
song.  Father  Holland  you  have  no  objections  to  Mr. 
Smoothly' s  giving  us  a  song ;  it  won't  disturb  the  family, 
will  it  ?" 

"  Why,  if  it's  a  dacent  song,  Mister  Johns,  I  have  no 
objection  in  the  world ;  but  you  know  Smoothly,  you 
sung  a  song  here  once  that  I  could  not  stand." 

"  I  can't  sing  at  all,"  said  Smoothly.  "  I  feel  that 
infernal  tobacco  juice  in  my  throat  this  minute ;  besides, 
I  have  a  cold,  and  my  voice,  Johns,  is  nearly  as  much 
cracked  as  your  own." 

"  I  thank  you  for  the  compliment,"  replied  Johns, 
"  if  not  for  your  great  willingness  to  oblige.  I  never 
saw  one  of  your  rale  singers  that  was  worth  a  pipe  of 
tobacco  ;  they  are  sartain  to  have  a  cold,  if  a  man  axes 
them  to  sing ;  and  when  nobody  cares  about  hearing 
them,  they  are  eternally  singing  or  whistling,  like  the 
wind  through  the  key- hole  of  a  winter  night." 


EONEGUSKI.  215 

"Let  him  alone  boys,"  said  Mr.  Holland;  "don't 
persuade  him,  or  you  won't  git  a  song  to-night." 

"  Come,  Smoothly,"  said  Rowell,  "  you  remind  me 
of  the  dutchman's  horse — devilish  hard  to  catch,  and 
not  worth  much  after  you  are  caught." 

"  Well,  boys,"  at  length,  said  Smoothly  "  if  you 
want  me  to  sing,  you  must  make  father  Holland  bring 
out  another  decanter,  for  Johns,  like  a  great  sponge,  as 
he  is — has  sucked  up  all  the  first  one." 

"  It  would  be  monstrous  hard  to  cheat  you  out  of  your 
share  of  what's  going,  Smoothly,  your  mouth  is  always 
ready  to  catch  its  portion,  even  to  scattering  quids  of 
tobacco." 

This  mere  allusion  to  the  affair  at  the  court-house 
was  more  amusing  to  the  company  assembled  round 
Mr.  Holland's  hearth,  than  would  have  been  far  better 
wit,  and  produced  a  general  burst  of  laughter  at  Smooth- 
ly's  expense,  who,  however,  was  not  himself  diverted 
— from  the  subject  of  the  liquor. 

Gideon,  who  had  occasionally  heard  Mr.  Smoothly 
sing,  and  from  whom,  indeed,  his  sister  Atha  had  learn- 
ed .several  songs,  including  the  one  given  towards  the 
beginning  of  our  story,  was  waiting  with  eager  impa- 
tience to  hear  the  preliminaries  settled,  and  have  his  ear 
greeted  by  the  melodious  voice  of  that  gentleman ;  he 
was,  therefore,  much  gratified  when  the  good  natured 
Mr.  Holland  finally  consented  to  bring  forth  the  other 
decanter,  from  which  Mr.  Smoothly  having  moistened 
his  throat,  entered  upon  the  following  preface  : — "  Gen- 
tlemen, a  man  somewhat  in  the  habit  of  singing  is 
more  at  a  loss  to  please  himself  in  the  selection  of  a 
song,  than  one  whose  stock  being  small,  furnishes  him 
with  a  very  narrow  field  of  choice:  any  of  you,  then, 
will  oblige  me  by  naming  the  song  you  would  prefer — " 

"  Oh,  any  thing  you  please,"  was  the  general  cry, 
leaving  Smoothly  still  in  difficulty. 

At  length,  said  Gideon,  modestly,  "  If  Mr.  Smoothly 
remembers  a  song  which  he  composed,  was  the  word,  I 


216  EONEGUSKI. 

think  he  used  at  our  house,  during  a  long  spell  of  rain, 
I,  for  one,  should  like  to  hear  it." 

Smoothly  blushed.  "  I  remember  it,  Mr.  Aymor,  but 
I  should  rather  be  excused  from  singing  it :  won't  some- 
thing else  answer  as  well." 

But  it  was  too  late ;  the  company  all  pounced  upon  this 
song,  and  nothing  else  would  serve  them,  though  none 
of  them  had  heard  it,  except  Gideon.  Smoothly  sung 
one  or  two  other  songs,  with  a  view  of  putting  them  off, 
but  at  every  pause  the  song  called  for  by  Mr.  Aymor 
was  insisted  on.  At  length,  Smoothly  struck  up  to  the 
air  with  which  the  public  has  been  made  familiar,  by 
Thomas  Moore's  song  of  Love's  Young  Dream,  the 
following  words : — 

The  down  of  youth  was  on  my  chin  ; 

As  Time  pass'd  by 
I  long'd  impatient  to  begin 

Life's  scenes  to  try. 

Love's  warm  desire — 

Ambition's  fire 
Were  stirring  up  my  heart, 
Which  bounded  wildly  in  my  breast, 
And  keenly  felt  their  smart ; 
Disdaining  tame  inglorious  rest — 
It  spurn'd  each  soothing  art. 

The  world — a  wide  extensive  plain, 

Was  richly  spread 
With  all  the  human  heart  would  gain  ; 

Whilst  o'er  my  head 

Hope's  arch  so  bright 

With  radiant  light 

Was  gilding  all  the  scene, 
Where  Love  erected  num'rous  bow'rs 
la  deepest,  fadeless  green, 
While,  far  beyond  thro'  mingling  flow'rs 
Fame's  lofty  heights  were  seen. 

Approaching  me,  there  came  three  dames, 

In  gay  attire  ; 
Beauty  in  one  awoke  to  flames 

Love's  kindling  fire. 


JEONEGUSKI.  217 

A  myrtle  wreath 

Whence  odors  breathe, 
With  grace  she  bore  along, 
And,  smiling,  said,  "  Sweet  youth  'tis  thine. 
"  Love's  votaries  among 

"  Come  learn  such  heav'nly  wreaths  to  twine, 
"  And  join  Cytherea's  throng." 

Ere  yet  this  lovely  speaker  ceas'd, 

Another  came. 
Her  breath  ambition's  fire  increas'd, 

To  brighter  flame. 

A  wreath  of  bays 

With  pride  displays — 
"  Bend  thy  fair  head,  my  boy, 
•'  Which  with  this  glorious  crown  I'll  grace, 
"  And  fill  thy  soul  with  joy ; 
"  And  Venus  there  shall  find  no  place, 
"  Who  woos  but  to  destroy." 

Confus'd — I  stood  in  doubtful  choice  : 

The  third  fan  spake. 
A  vine  she  bore,  and  cri'd  "  Rejoice  ! 

"  To  bliss  awake ! 

"  Here,  take  this  cup, 

"  Drain  ev'ry  sup, 
"  'Tis  fill'd  with  juice  Divine; 
"  Bid  Love  and  Fame  now  stand  aside, 
"  And  when  you've  tasted  Wine, 
"  The  arms  of  both  will  open  wide, 
"  And  Love  and  Fame  be  thine." 

With  eager  haste  I  seiz'd  the  cup  ; 

'Twas  bright  pure  gold — 
Its  crimson  waves  I  swallow'd  up, 

With  courage  bold. 

My  wild  delight 

Soon  put  to  flight 
Love,  and  her  sister  Fame  ; 
Who  never  since  will  condescend, 
My  fellowship  to  claim. 
The  cup  remains — my  only  friend — 
My  solace—  and  my  shame. 

Mr.  Smoothly  surpassed  himself  in  execution,  and 
there  was  in  the  tone^in  which  the  last  verse  was 
uttered  a  pathetic  sensibility  of  its  truth,  as  applied  to 

vol.  i. — 19. 


218  EONEGUSKI. 

himself,  in  which  the  hearers  felt  deep  sympathy. 
This  induced  a  gloom,  which,  acting  as  a  sedative  upon 
all  their  feelings,  fitted  them  for  repose. 

The  lawyers  having  retired,  late  as  it  was,  Mr.  Hol- 
land and  his  household  surrounded  their  family  altar, 
and  offered  to  the  Almighty  their  evening  sacrifice, 
previously  to  committing  themselves  to  their  respec- 
tive pillows. 


END    OF    VOLUME    ONE. 


f 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 


THE  COLLECTION  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINIANA 


VCC8I3 
S837e 
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